Magnets: the 44th Hunger Games
by Wetstar
Summary: Cicero Genovese takes on the task of creating the 44th Hunger Games, in which 24 tributes will fight to the death. Partial SYOT. Closed.
1. Prologue

_Cicero Genovese, Head Gamemaker for the 44th Hunger Games_

Cicero leans over Makvala's shoulder to check on the work she was doing on the mutts that would be in the arena. "So you're going with the badgers?"

"Badgers are fierce and defensive of their homes. If we extend and sharpen their teeth and claws, they'll be formidable." She tugs on the ponytail holder that was keeping her dark blue and purple hair out of her eyes. "I think they'll put on a good show."

"Well _I_ think they're a bit too small to be the main attraction. I thought we agreed to go with the coyotes."

Makvala scoffs and pulls up a second file on her screen. "Coyotes. Just as you asked. They're the main attraction. The badgers are just there to speed up a lull. We've got a bit of work left to do on the coyotes still, but most of the mutts are about ready to go."

"Well hurry up and send them down to Zoology. We need them in the arena by the end of the training sessions at the absolute latest. I don't want to be the one explaining to President Snow why there's no mutts in the arena. As mutations specialist, that'll be your job."

Cicero watches the woman swallow hard before turning to him with a smirk. "It'll be done in time. Chill." Makvala presses a few buttons on her screen and then picks up the papers from where they printed off next to her desk. She places them inside a sealed envelope upon which she had placed a label reading B8423. With a snap of her fingers the woman is able to summon her assistant, Jasper, to her side in an instant.

"Yes Ms. Baris?" The young man's green hair falls into his red eyes and he hurriedly tucks it behind his ear.

"Jasper, please bring file B8423 down to Frida Ewart in Zoology. Remind her that this needs to bring finished as quickly as possible but must be absolute perfection. She will be held accountable for any errors that occur. The file must be destroyed following the completion of her task. Instruct her that if she has any questions they can be addressed to me."

Jasper gives her a nod and walks quickly towards the elevators. Makvala turns back to Cicero. "See? Everything's taken care of. We've all done this before, relax. It's not all going to fall apart at the last minute."

"Mr. Genovese?" Melete Raske's pastel pink hair bounces around her shoulders as she rushes across the control room towards them. She pauses for a moment to adjust her short leather skirt and velvet blouse before speaking. "Mrs. Simoneit is here to see you."

"Thank you very much, Melete." The young woman gives him a quick nod before rushing back over to her position near the door of the control room. Cicero taps Makvala's arm. "I'll check in with you again before I leave. I want to see how those coyotes are coming along."

"Just make sure you're not late for the big interview. Panem wants to know what's to come." Cicero was scheduled to do an interview with Caesar Flickerman, the official Games announcer that night at eight. It would be broadcast just to the Capitol and would include hints about what was to come in the arena and what the sponsors should be looking out for this year. It was the first of two big interviews for the Capitol, the second broadcasting just hours after the last reaping. He would review the tributes with Flickerman and offer up his personal opinion on their first impression. Although the escorts may tell the tributes that the chariots are their first chance to impress the sponsors, Cicero held the opinion that the reapings were more important. You got to see how the tributes reacted under stress. He could usually pick out a few tributes who stood a good chance from the reapings alone. Though there were always surprises.

Cicero walks across the control room to where Calanthe Simoneit is waiting for him. She's wearing a short, white dress with sequins covering the bust and torso and a shimmering fringe as the skirt. Her yellow and green hair is pinned up and she somehow is remaining standing in seven inch heels as she flips through the book covered in sticky notes in her hands. Beside her stand a man and a woman, both just as fashionably dressed. The man holds a shoe box while the woman has a garment bag tossed over her shoulder.

"Calanthe. Shall we move this to my office?"

The head stylist slams her book shut. "Do you mind? I'm incredibly busy going over the designs my stylists have sent me. I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible so that I can go back to the office and fire Safira. The bitch sent me the _worst_ District Nine chariot outfits ever. She thought they agriculture in general. Can you believe that? She wanted to dress them up as apples. Not to mention that's a _horrible_ idea-"

Cicero clears his throat. "My office, Calanthe. Please."

The woman lets out a large sigh before stomping her way to the back of the control room where Cicero's office was, her companions in tow. Cicero pleads to whatever deity exists that this session be relatively less painful than their last few.

Inside his office, Calanthe is helping her assistants to unpack the outfit that she had brought to show Cicero. Her position as head stylist meant that she was in charge of designing and creating the outfits the tributes would wear while they were in the arena. The working design was a tank top, a light long-sleeved shirt, a lightweight waterproof jacket, cargo pants, and hiking boots.

"So the current colour scheme is dark green for District One, pale blue for District Two, dark orange for District Three-"

Cicero raises a hand. "I don't care about the colour scheme, Calanthe. I trust that you know how to differentiate between two colours, that is your job, after all. All I care about is the functionality."

Calanthe sighs and gestures at the outfit draped over his desk. "Go ahead and take a look then."

Cicero barely glances at the shirts and pants. They had all been in order the last time he had checked. He cared far more about the jacket and boots, clothes that would be essential to the tributes once they were in the arena. He examines the jacket, splashing water on it and briefly putting it on to make sure that it would be light enough.

"Checks out. _These_ however..." He picks up one of the hiking boots. "Still not sturdy enough. They need to be able to walk for a while in them. If the tributes keep stopping to take breaks, it makes for a pretty boring show."

Calanthe picks up the hiking boots and puts them back into the shoe box. "Fine, I'll have them fixed for tomorrow. Everything else is good though?"

"Everything but the boots is cleared."

"You sure you don't want to hear about the colour scheme?"

"Positive. Now get out of here, I need to get ready for my interview."

As Calanthe leaves, Cicero turns to the suit hanging on the door to his office. He has almost no doubt in his mind that he'll be able to keep the audience entertained this year. But that little bit of doubt was a good thing. A Gamemaker without doubt was a very dangerous thing to be.

 **Hey guys! Rules and tribute form are on my profile. Please note two things before submitting. First, only tributes sent via PM will be accepted. All tributes left in reviews will not be considered. Second, this is a partial SYOT. I have six tributes of my own that will be in the Games and one of them will win. However, I will be doing POVs for all tributes following the bloodbath, and a short POV from a loved one of each tribute that dies in the bloodbath.**

 **Hope you enjoyed this short little prologue! The rest of the chapters will definitely be longer than this, don't worry!**


	2. D2 Reaping

_Cadell Baines, 18 years old, District Two tribute for the 44th Hunger Games_

Cadell slides down the hill between his house and that of his best friend Itziar Viteri, stumbling slightly as he comes to a stop at the bottom. They had been best friends since they were small, being two of the only children in the small village they had grown up in. Most of the other kids were closer in age to his youngest sister Meta, who was only nine and not even in the reaping yet. His other sister, Arian, was fifteen and closer in age to Itziar, who was sixteen. Cadell was always surprised by the fact that Itziar seemed closer to him than to Arian, who was actually around during the week, unlike him, who was away at training all week long and only home on the weekends. Itziar had once told him that Arian wasn't really around that often during the days, since she had to transport the stones from the quarry to a village further down the mountain and so they only talked briefly in the morning before she left.

Cadell walks over to the Viteri house and knocks on their door. Itziar practically flings it open, already dressed in climbing gear. "I see you're ready to go."

She purses her lips. "I see you're not. Where's your gear, dumbass?"

"I want to try climbing without it."

"And crack your head open the morning you're supposed to volunteer?"

"I won't have gear in the arena."

"I don't give a rat's ass about the arena. Come on, you can borrow Arkaitz's climbing gear. He left it here when he moved. Said he didn't need it to design buildings." Itziar drags him inside and back to the ladder leading up to their attic. Once upstairs, it takes only a few minutes of digging around to find her brother's old gear. She helps Cadell to put it on and then they head up to the nearby mountain face where they climbed on the weekends. Itziar had insisted that they climb before the reaping today. "For luck," she had said.

After years of practice, they were both used to this part of the mountain and could usually climb from the road to the first shelf in about five minutes. They tended to go further down the road to the cliffs closer to the quarry, but they were a bit more pressed for time today and didn't want to waste half an hour just getting to the cliff.

Cadell had to admit, as much as he loved training, it'll never come close to the feeling of rock under his palm. He'd spend the entire weekend going on runs and climbing with Itziar, and then return to training on Monday with cuts and scrapes all over his hands. The first few times it happened, his training partner, Agni Narang, had been worried, but recently he had developed an "as long as you can hold a sword, I don't care" attitude.

"And I mean, even if you can't hold a sword, it's better for me, right?" Agni had been particularly sour about Cadell placing first in their class and getting to volunteer after he placed second following a year of intense competition between the two of them.

"Hey Cadell!" Itziar's shout snaps him out of his thoughts and he looks up at where she's already seated on the first shelf. "If you keep being slow, Narang will volunteer for you!"

Cadell smirks and quickly scales the last bit of the cliff face to the shelf. "As if I'd let him do that. I earned the volunteer spot, fair and square." Coming from a small village in the mountains meant that Cadell was even more protective of his position as male volunteer than most were.

Itziar starts climbing to the next shelf. "Damn right you did. But seriously, you need to watch your back. He wants it as bad as you do."

"Everyone does. You don't even understand, it's like an all-out war for those spots."

Itziar snorts and swings her leg over an unstable patch of rocks. "So like getting the good quarry spots?"

"Worse. There's only two and it's the chance to completely change your life. I mean, imagine how great it would be if I won. We could move into the main district and not freeze every winter."

"I bet your dad and Arian would still come out here every week to work. For glory and everything."

Cadell passes her and climbs onto the shelf. "Arian's gotten way too intense about the quarry."

"Arian takes herself too seriously," Itziar says, lifting herself onto the shelf. "I mean, she's fifteen. She should loosen up and have some fun while she still can."

Cadell tries not to snort. "Seriously. She would've made a better choice for a Career than I would have."

Cadell was the only one in the village who went into the main area of the district to train for the Games. It was a means to bring honor not only to his district, but also to his village. His mother had drilled this belief into him since he was eight and first started training. He started a couple of years after most of the other Careers and she wanted him to have the drive to succeed. His father had been opposed to the idea, saying that working in the quarries was just as good a path to glory as the Games were, especially considering that most volunteers died and weren't able to do anything to support the district.

Itziar had wanted to go and train with him, but her parents decided that the main district was too far away to travel to every week, especially considering that there was usually a volunteer each year. Instead, Cadell taught her a few tricks and such on the weekends so that even if she did end up going into the Games, she wouldn't be completely useless.

"Speak of the devil." Cadell follows Itziar's gaze to Arian standing at the base of the cliff with her hands on her hips. "What's up pipsqueak?"

Arian sighs but ignores the jab at her height. "It's an hour until we have to leave. Mom sent me to get Cadell so that he doesn't look horrible when he volunteers."

"Yeah, his face sure could use some cleaning up. How's mine look?"

Arian turns and starts walking home. "Decent."

Cadell rolls his eyes at Itziar's grin. "Stop trying to rile her up. It just makes her dislike you even more."

Itziar starts to climb back down the cliff. "Doesn't stop it from being fun though."

* * *

At home, Cadell is greeted by his mother trying to get Arian to wear nice clothes for the reaping. "You can't go in your work clothes, people will stare!"

Arian rolls her eyes as she tugs her hair out of its usual braid. "I'm wearing my hair down, isn't that good enough?"

Scoria Baines sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Arian, this will be on national television."

"Yeah, and I'll be in the fifteen year old section. No one's gonna be looking there once the volunteer goes up."

"Your brother is _volunteering._ What if they cut to you after he goes up? The sponsors will all give up on him once they see what a mess his younger sister is!"

"As if! The Capitol announcers will be too busy raving about his muscles to care about what I look like!"

Cadell feels a tap on his shoulder and looks down to see Meta holding a shiny pink scrunchy and a hairbrush in her hand. "Can you do my hair for me? Then I can tell the interviewers about it when they come here."

"Sure thing." He takes the brush from her and starts brushing out her bedhead, the same sandy haircolour that they share with their mother. He then pulls her hair back into the best ponytail he can manage. It ends up off to one side and messy, but Meta seems delighted with it. Scoria, on the other hand, is not.

"Meta, you can't go into the district looking like that! People will talk."

"Only about what a wonderful older brother I am," Cadell points out.

Scoria tosses him a bar of soap. "Go wash up, I can smell the sweat on you from here. You need to at least be presentable when you volunteer." She looks sterner than usual for a moment. "You've been working towards this for a decade, Cadell. Don't mess it up now."

"Of course not. Agni will have to send me to the hospital before he goes into the arena instead of me."

He goes into the small bathroom that the five of them share and starts washing up. He's examining himself in the mirror and wondering whether or not he should leave some stubble for the reaping when his father knocks on the bathroom door. "Come in."

Emyr Baines enters into the bathroom, quiet despite his size, and takes a seat on the edge of the metal tub. "Are you nervous?"

Cadell hesitates. He hates to admit weakness, but it felt wrong to hide things from his father. He tells him everything, no matter how embarrassing it is. "A little bit."

"Don't worry about it. And if you feel like you can't do it, that's fine. You can come home and work in the quarry."

"I don't want that though. I want to win."

"And if you die?"

Cadell swallows hard. It was an outcome that he didn't like to think about, even though he knew it was the most likely one. "Then I'll die with honor."

Emyr reaches out and puts a hand on his son's shoulder. "I'm proud of you, no matter what happens. I just want you to remember that."

Cadell nods. "Of course."

"And your mother will still be proud of you even if you don't volunteer. She may not act like it, but she does care. She loves you kids more than you could ever know."

"It would all be a waste if I don't volunteer though."

Emyr shakes his head. "No. You've grown so much in the time you've been away. That could never be a waste."

"I could change our lives."

"What do we need changed, Cadell? We have a house, food, work, friends. We just need you. I'd rather be working hard and living an unglamorous life and know that my kid's alright than to lose my child."

Cadell nods slowly, swallowing hard as his father gets up to leave. "Oh, and I suggest you shave. Stubble really doesn't suit you."

* * *

Cadell makes his way through the hoard of eighteen year old boys to where Agni waits with two of the other top five trainees. The fifth boy, Virgil Whinen, was only seventeen and would most likely be volunteering the following year. The rest of the boys part to let him go through, a few of them whispering to each other as he passes by.

"-complete bullshit," Agni's saying as he reaches them, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

"What is?"

Jove Nester, the fifth place trainee, looks over at him. "The girl who's volunteering. She's only seventeen."

"What?! How'd she manage to pull that off?"

"Apparently she got the highest score in the tests and the trainers wanted her to volunteer."

"I can't see Tanith agreeing to that." Tanith Krall was the front runner among the girls for most of the year and Cadell had been almost certain that he would be going into the arena with her. She was stubborn and hot-headed and he couldn't imagine her just rolling over and letting some seventeen-year-old hotshot take what she had been working towards for more than a decade.

"Yeah, but I wouldn't really want to argue with Harding either, would you?"

Cadell shudders slightly. "Good point." Whatever his opinion of Tanith, he doesn't think that she was stupid enough to challenge their terrifying Head Trainer.

Tyson slaps his shoulder. "But you don't have to worry about that! You'll be able to take her down no problem!"

Cadell grins. Tyson Batts. A boy with a heart of gold who could wield a sword like no other. Part of him was glad that he had been paired up with Agni instead of with Tyson because he felt that if he had been put with Tyson he would have spent the entire time going easy on him, an act that would have certainly resulted in him getting his ass handed to him. "Thanks man."

Tyson grins back at him as Twila Steffen walks on stage. Her hair was silvery blue and braided up to look like flowers and she was wearing a dress that was glowing pale green, her legs covered by tights with a galaxy design on them. Overall, it wasn't the worst outfit that Cadell had ever seen. She had only just started escorting for Two the year before and so far she seemed far better than their last escort.

"Good _morning_ District Two!" Her voice was slightly shrill as she yelled into the microphone. _Better, but not great,_ Cadell thinks. "Are you all ready for the _reaping?_ "

The crowd broke out into cheers and he can't help but grin at the energy he can feel in the air. Those cheers were for him, the village boy who had made it to the top of training. Twila gives them a wide smile before walking over to the girls' bowl. She plucks a name from the top of the bowl, probably knowing full well that whoever it was wouldn't be going into the Games this year.

"Shani _Brivio!_ "

Before Shani even has the chance to start towards the stage, a shout comes from the seventeen-year-old section. "I volunteer!"

The first thing Cadell notices about the girl is her muscles. Definitely strong. The second thing he notices is that she's currently wearing her training clothes. He can just imagine how scandalized his mother would be by that. She walks up to the stage, stone-faced, dark ponytail swaying behind her as she goes.

" _Hello,_ my darling! And what might your name be?"

The girl steps up to the microphone and when she speaks, her voice is confident and clear. "Ryda del Aquiles."

" _Wonderful!_ Are you _ready_ to meet _your_ district partner?"

Ryda's jaw tightens and Cadell holds back a laugh. "Yeah."

Twila marches over to the boys' bowl and selects a name from the top of the bowl.

" _Kemen_ Ola!"

Cadell sends Agni a quick smirk before turning to walk out of his section, calling as he walks. "I volunteer!"

He casts a quick glance towards one of the television screens as he walks towards the stage and he's relieved to see that for the most part, he looks pretty casual.

"And _hello_ to you too! What might _your_ name be, handsome?"

He steps up to the microphone and gives the camera his best smirk. "Cadell Baines."

" _Wonderful!_ Shake hands you two! Everyone, your District Two tributes, Ryda del Aquiles and Cadell Baines!"

The two of them are herded into the Justice Building and into separate rooms for their goodbyes. Cadell takes a seat on the sofa in his room and waits for his first visitor.

It doesn't take long before his family comes in, Scoria beaming with pride. "Oh, you did wonderfully Cadell! The Capitol will certainly be flocking to sponsor you!"

Cadell grins and stands up. "Obviously. Especially considering that Ryda's only seventeen. I'm clearly District Two's best chance."

Meta throws her arms around him. "You're going to win, right? And then we get to move into a huge house and be really famous?"

"Of course. And then I'll buy you as many sweets as you like."

She beams and he gently strokes her messy ponytail, trying to memorize what it feels like. Arian watches them, frowning, and he shoots her a grin. "And I'll be out of your hair for a few weeks, eh?"

Arian sighs and starts to braid her hair again. "Whatever. It's not like you're around most of the time anyways. I probably won't even notice. I just hope I won't get sick of you when you come back."

Scoria swats Arian's hands away from her hair. "Exactly. Before long, you'll be back home again and we'll be moving into a nice new house in the Victor's Village."

Emyr puts his hands on Cadell's shoulders. "And you're sure that this is what you want?"

"No turning back now."

"Of course. Stay safe in there, alright?"

Cadell nods. "Relax, you have nothing to worry about. I've trained. I'm ready."

"Do you have your token?"

He raises his wrist to show a simple string bracelet with a knot tied in the center that Itziar had made for him before he had left for training. "I've got that covered."

Emyr hugs him tightly. "Come home safe, alright?"

"Oh stop it Emyr, he's not a child. He'll be fine." Scoria's voice is filled with scorn for her husband. "No need to get all sappy on him now."

"Yeah Dad, I'll be fine. I'm a Career after all."

The Peacekeeper outside opens the door. "Time's up."

There's a quick round of goodbyes and I love you's from his family and then Cadell is left alone again for a minute before the door opens again and Itziar comes in.

"You looked pretty cool out there," are the first words out of her mouth.

"Thanks. I was trying to be casual about it, not make it a huge deal, you know?"

"You definitely succeeded in that. I could practically feel Narang's jealousy from the other side of the square."

Cadell can't help his smirk. "Good. I want him to be fuming."

"You're gonna own it in there, right?"

"Obviously. The outer districts are weak and the other Careers have nothing on Cadell Baines."

"Good. You need to have confidence in there."

"I've definitely got that. I'll be fine, it's all chill."

"Well, I'll miss you. But I'll see you in a month, yeah?"

"Yeah. And then I'll be around all the time and you'll never be able to get rid of me."

Itziar laughs and gives him a quick hug. "Good luck."

She leaves and shortly afterwards Agni comes in. "You got lucky out there. If you were reaped, you wouldn't be in here right now."

He shrugs. "But I am. And you aren't. Sucks for you, I guess."

Agni scowls and crosses his arms, looking away. "Whatever. I still could have done well."

"I'm sure you could have. But I beat you. And now I'm going to win."

"You'd better." Agni takes a step closer to Cadell. "You owe it to us. To me, and Tyson, and Virgil, and Jove. Especially Tyson and Jove and I. We could've been in your place. Don't let us down."

"Why would I?"

"Of course." Agni hesitates slightly before pressing his lips to his cheek. He pauses there for a second before murmuring, "You'd better come back."

He then steps back, gives Cadell the shyest smile he could remember seeing from Agni, before he turns and leaves the room.

 **Hey guys! Sorry for the delay on the update, university keeps me busy! There's still plenty of tribute spots open, the list of available spots is on my profile along with the tribute form. A reminder that only tributes sent through PM will be considered and to please have your PM's open so that I can ask any questions I may need to. If your PM's are not open, I'll just have to guess. Thanks and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	3. D3 Reaping

_Jacy Dahl, 16 years old, District Three tribute for the 44th Hunger Games_

Jacy wakes up to the sound of crows outside her window and the scratchy feeling of her family's wool blanket against her neck. Erie's drooling on the pillow next to her, Verena's arm thrown over her shoulder. Jacy groggily reaches up and pushes her arm off her sister's shoulder, smiling when Verena swats at her in her sleep.

She wiggles out from under the blanket, carefully stepping over Edgar to get out of their makeshift bed. In reality, it was simply a pile of straw with old sheets thrown over it and a few pillows and wool blankets. It took up most of the space in her family's one-room apartment, the rest taken up by her parent's small bed, a couple of chests for their clothes, a fireplace for cooking and a small cupboard for food. There was a curtained off area in the corner for the bathtub, but they had to go out back of their building to use the toilet.

Jacy walks over to the chest containing her, Edgar and Arco's clothes. She grabs a clean shirt and vest from the top of the pile of clothes and quickly gets changed before tying her dark hair back in a low, loose ponytail and putting on her headband. Her mother had saved up a few cents from her wages every day for a few weeks to be able to buy it for her and Jacy hardly ever went anywhere without it.

She grabs the water bucket from next to the tub and goes outside to the pump to fill it up. She's surprised at who she sees there though.

"Chas?"

The little girl looks up and smiles at her, one of her front teeth missing. "Jacy! Can you help me? I can't lift it."

"What're you doing out here, Chas? Russell or Ann should be getting the water, not you," Jacy says as she pumps water into the bucket that Chas had brought.

"Mommy said to let them sleep in."

"Oh? And why didn't Mommy come to get the water?" Jacy tries to keep her annoyance at Sandra Duke out of her voice. She didn't have much respect for the woman, constantly disappearing and leaving her children to their own devices. Chas was the result of one such disappearance, a time when Sandra disappeared for three months without telling Russell and Ann where she would be. They ended up being sent off to the children's home for a few years until Sandra could prove that she was a fit caretaker. She managed to get them back but it wasn't long before she began disappearing again.

"I dunno. She wasn't at home when I woke up."

Of course. Jacy switches out the buckets and begins to pump water into her family's bucket. "I'm sure she'll be home before the reaping."

"Are you and Russell going away this year?" Chas chews on her fingernail, gazing up at her with a curious expression on her face.

"I hope not. We'd miss you too much!"

The little girl giggled. "I'd miss you too!"

Jacy picked up the two buckets of water and started back towards the building. "Come on, I'm sure your brother will be wondering where you've gone."

Sure enough, when they get back inside Russell is leaning over the railing of the staircase. "Chas?!"

"I've got her, Russ!" she calls up to him.

He gives an audible sigh in return. "Thank goodness."

Chas skips up the stairs ahead of Jacy. "Jacy helped me fill up the bucket and she carried it inside for me!"

"Yeah? Why'd you go out there, huh?"

"Mommy said that you and Ann needed to sleep lots for the reaping!"

"Ah," Russell sighs again before picking up his little sister. "Thanks for helping her, Jacy."

Jacy sets the bucket of water down in front of the Dukes' door before tightening her ponytail. "No problem. I was out there anyways."

"Have you seen Ann yet?"

"Not since she and Verena got back from school yesterday. Why?"

"She wasn't here when I woke up." Noticing her worried look he adds, "I'm sure she'll be back soon though. Probably just went to the outhouse or something."

"Yeah… Let me know if she doesn't show up soon though, okay?" Russell nods and guides Chas back inside their apartment as Jacy heads up the last few steps to hers.

When she enters the room, the rest of her family are beginning to get up, Dayton being the only one still asleep. Verena is unusually subdued, this being the morning of her first reaping, and Erie is trying to convince her to have a bit of bread. Their mother is stroking her hair and looks up when Jacy walks in.

"Oh good, you got the water. Thank you honey," Harmony Dahl says with a small smile.

"No problem." She pours it into cups as Edgar lights a fire in the fireplace. "Where's Arco and Dad?"

"They went up to talk with Leavitt and Hendy." Jacy's eldest brother and his wife lived a couple of floors above them with their daughter, Corliss. Hendy was currently pregnant with their second child which caused her to be a bit of a helicopter parent with Corliss.

"That's weird, I don't hear any yelling," Jacy says dryly. Leavitt and Arco could barely be in the same room as one another without getting in a fight. Edgar snorts and Harmony gives her a disapproving look.

"Jacy, please. Your sister's upset. Don't make it worse."

Jacy sighs and sits down on the bed, being careful not to wake up Dayton. "It'll be fine, Verena. Mom and Dad made it through the reaping just fine. Leavitt, Hendy and Arco are all fine. You'll be okay. You've only got one slip, they're not gonna pick you."

"But what if you or Erie or Edgar are picked?" she asks with a small sniffle.

"Then we'll do our best to come home."

Verena sniffles again before giving a small nod. "Okay."

"Come on, let's grab some breakfast before the reaping."

Edgar divides up the remaining bread for the rest of them as Arco and their father come in. Boyden seems to be in the middle of consoling his son. "You know he's just worried about you, that's all it is. He wants to see you as happy as he is."

Arco puffs out his cheeks. "I am happy. I just don't want the same stuff he does, it's not that difficult."

Boyden sighs and accepts the bread that Edgar offers him. "You will have to settle down one day. Even if it's not with a partner and children, you'll have to move out and build your own life."

"I will." Arco ruffles Verena's hair. "Hey, what's with the red eyes?"

"She's worried about the reaping," Edgar explains.

"Aw, kiddo, you don't have to worry about that. They're not as bad as they seem."

"But what if I get reaped?" Her bottom lip starts trembling again.

"Then you go in and kick all their asses-"

"Arco!" both their parents say at once. Erie rolls her eyes and Verena giggles.

"There we go, got a smile out of you."

There's a knock on the door and Russell pokes his head in. "Jacy? Ann wants to give you something."

She exchanges a questioning look with Edgar before following Russell downstairs. "What is it?"

"Dunno, she wouldn't tell me."

Ann's trying to brush out her short brown hair when they go in, Chas playing with a doll that Russell made her from some of the straw from their bed. "Russell said you had something for me?"

Her blue eyes light up. "Right!"

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small yellow tube with a red lid. "I got this for you. I thought it might help your confidence in the girls' section."

Jacy's eyes widen before she grabs the tube from her. "Ann, you can't afford-" Realization dawns on her just before Russell's outburst.

"Ann, did you _steal_ this?!"

"No! Maybe..."

"Ann, you could've been hurt! Or worse!"

"But I wasn't!"

Jacy speaks up quietly. "Ann, I appreciate it, but it wasn't worth the risk."

"Fine, I won't do it again. But please wear it."

She can't help the small smile on her face. "I will. Thanks Ann."

Ann beams. "Put it on! I want to see how it looks!"

She uncaps the lid to reveal a red balm which she spreads on her lips. Ann squeals slightly. "Oh Jacy, that looks amazing on you!"

"Yeah?"

Russell gives her a small smile. "While I don't agree with Ann's methods, it does suit you."

The door slams open just then as a boy with long blond hair tied back in a low bun bursts in. "Russell, I need our clothes!" He kicks the door shut as he begins to pull off the dress he was wearing.

"Dude, can you not do that here? My sister's in the room!"

Seq Ruskin rolls his eyes as he flings open one of the chests in the corner of the room. "Dude, I don't have anything she's never seen before, chill. Jacy, can you help with the last few buttons?"

Jacy undoes the last few buttons on Seq's dress as Russell covers Ann's eyes. Chas continues to play with her doll, seemingly unaware of the four teenagers. Seq pulls a white button up shirt and black trousers from the chest and begins putting them on. Since his parents refused to let him wear more masculine clothing, he had bought clothes after school and kept them at Russell's place, letting the older boy wear them whenever he wanted to in return. They often joked that Russell was the best dressed factory worker in Three.

Once Seq was properly dressed, he turned to face the other three, adjusting his bun. "Nice lips, Jacy. The colour suits you."

"You think so? Thanks."

"Absolutely stunning."

There's a knock at the door and Russell opens it to reveal Edgar standing outside. "Thank you for knocking, you have more manners than Seq."

"Russell, you can suck my-"

Jacy gives Seq's leg a quick kick. "Thirteen year old in the room."

He rolls his eyes again as Edgar snickers. "Nice going Seq. Jacy, we're getting ready to leave. Mom and Dad want you back home."

Jacy nods and gives Seq and Russell each a hug. "I'll see you guys after the reaping, okay?"

Seq gives her ponytail a quick tug. "Of course. We're gonna be just fine."

"It'll be just like every other year," Russell's voice is confident, but the way he hugs her tightly says otherwise.

When they return upstairs, Leavitt, Hendy and Corliss have joined the rest of their family. Arco and Leavitt were pointedly standing on opposite sides of the room and ignoring each other, while Hendy kept a careful eye on Corliss as she toddles around. Dayton was sleepily finishing up his bread, already dressed in his nicest clothes. That wasn't saying much though, as the pants still had a hole in the knee, but it would do for standing in the crowd with their parents. At only ten years old he wasn't yet eligible for the reaping.

There's a small gasp from Verena. "Jacy! That's so pretty, where'd you get the lipstick?"

"Ann gave it to me." She pulls the lip balm tube out of her pocket and hands it to her younger sister. "Want to use it?"

"Can I?" She looks over at Harmony who gives a small nod. Verena uses it quickly before offering it to Erie. "Want to use it too?"

She shakes her head. "No thanks."

Boyden glances at his watch, the nicest object that they own. "We'd better get going."

They head off to the square, Leavitt carrying Corliss and Dayton holding onto Boyden's hand so that he doesn't get lost in the crowd. Once there, Edgar, Jacy, Erie and Verena separate from the others to sign in and join their individual sections; Edgar in the eighteen year old boys, Jacy with the sixteen year old girls, Erie with the fourteen year old girls and Verena with the twelve year old girls. Jacy tries to stick close to the edge of the section, noticing a few weird looks being shot her way and it takes all her effort not to reach back and undo her ponytail. _It's fine. You're fine._

Ashok Darzi takes the stage, his hair dyed a deep purple. His suit is a hideous shade of yellow, making him look like he had been peed on by an extremely dehydrated bird. She can hear a few nervous giggles coming from the younger sections, as they try not to laugh too openly at the man who had the power to take their life from them.

"Good morning District Three. How are we all doing today?" The dark blue gems near Ashok's eyes flash as he turns his head to survey the crowd. There's no response, as per usual. Unlike the Career districts that would show on TV prior to and following their reaping, this was a subdued district, one whose citizens dreaded the Games year-round. The escort sighs, pushing his hair away from his eyes. "Of course. Well, let's get on with it, shall we?"

He wobbles over to the girls' bowl, the black wedges he was wearing making it difficult to walk. Jacy closes her eyes tightly and begins whispering names under her breath. She did this every reaping, believing that if she said the names first, Ashok wouldn't call them out. "Verena Dahl, Erie Dahl, Ann Duke-"

"Jacy Dahl!"

She lets out a small gasp. No. No no no no no. This can't be happening. She starts towards the stage, trembling. _This isn't happening, this isn't happening._ The Peacekeepers surround her so that she can't run away. _No, no. No no no no. Not me, not me, not me._ The stone steps are in front of her now and Jacy slowly starts to climb them, startled when Ashok grabs her arm and leads her across the stage. "Come on now dear, we haven't got all day! We still have to choose your district partner!"

Her district partner. Of course. Jacy never thought that she would have one, had hoped she never would. She looks out across the girls' section, trying to find her sisters. She finds Erie pushing her way through the thirteen year old section to get to Verena, who had started to cry and clutch the arm of the girl next to her, who looked absolutely terrified of this small girl having a breakdown. Erie reaches her and pulls her into a tight hug, muttering something to the other girl who just nods and shuffles away from them.

Ashok, meanwhile, is ruffling his hand through the boys' bowl and muttering to himself. "Hmm… No, not that one, he'd have an attitude problem… That one won't have a chance… Yes, yes, this is the one." He pulls the slip of paper out of the bowl and wobbles back to the microphone.

"Alastor Holiday!"

There's a brief pause before the seventeen year old section begins to shift to let him out. The boy's tall and skinny, with pale skin and short black hair. He approaches the stage slowly but appears calm, which is probably more than could be said for Jacy. Ashok grabs his arm once he finishes climbing the stairs and almost drags him towards Jacy. "Good, good! Now, shake hands you two! District Three, your tributes for the 44th Hunger Games: Jacy Dahl and Alastor Holiday!"

Jacy shakes Alastor's hand, noticing that it's trembling slightly as she does so. _Guess he's not as calm as he looks._

They're led into the Justice Hall and sent into separate rooms for their friends and family to visit them and Jacy nearly collapses on the couch when the door closes behind her. _This can't be happening. This cannot be happening right now._

The door swings open and she barely has time to stand up before Edgar's throwing his arms around her and muttering something unintelligible through the tears streaming down his cheeks. She hugs him back and watches the rest of her siblings minus Leavitt file in after him. Verena's still crying and Erie seems close to it, while Arco has his arm around Dayton, who is clinging to the bottom of his brother's shirt and crying. Jacy bites her lip hard to hold back the tears.

"You have to come home," Verena chokes out through a sob and Jacy nods, grabbing handfuls of Edgar's shirt tightly.

"I-I'll do my best."

"Do whatever you need to. We won't fault you for what happens." Arco's words surprise her slightly.

"Arco…"

"Whatever you need to."

"Arco, you can't just say that!" The sudden outburst from Erie is almost as surprising. "She's going to have to _kill_ people!"

"And there's no way around that. Either she does, or she doesn't come home."

"How can you be so insensitive? Those are people's _lives!_ "

"It's them or Jacy. Who would you rather have come home, Erie? Jacy or that Holiday kid?"

"Jacy obviously! But that-"

"Then that's that. It's her or him or someone else entirely, okay Erie? I'm not trying to be mean, I'm just being honest. She needs to be ready for it." He looks away, absentmindedly stroking Dayton's hair. "I'm not any happier about it than you are, but that's the reality of the situation. It sucks, but we can't change it."

Erie crosses her arms and looks away and Verena looks at Jacy with teary eyes. "You won't go evil though, will you?"

"Of course not. And I'm sure I won't have to kill as much as Arco thinks I'll have to. If I lay low and keep my head down, I'm sure I'll be fine."

The youngest girl nods and Edgar finally lets go of Jacy, tears still streaming down his cheeks. "Stay safe in there, okay? We need you back at home."

She nods. "I'll do my best."

"We're almost out of time," Arco says, and they begin to say their goodbyes, accompanied with tight hugs. It's not long after they leave that her parents come in to say their own goodbyes.

Harmony pulls her into a tight hug. "Oh Jacy! You have to come home! Please!"

"I'll try," she says before being pulled into a tight hug by her father.

"We need you here. The kids need you here."

"I'll do my best. I… don't know if I'll be able to kill though. Arco thinks I can, but..."

"Don't worry about it," Boyden says. "Play your cards right and you won't have to until the very end."

"We're so, so proud of you honey."

Jacy wipes her eyes. "Thanks. I love you."

Her parents smile. "We love you too."

They get a few more minutes together, hugging each other tightly, before the Peacekeepers come in and tell them that their time's up.

Her next visitors are Leavitt and Hendy, Corliss sleeping in the former's arms. Hendy gives her a quick hug. "Oh Jacy! You need to come home! You have to!"

"I'll do my best."

Leavitt hands Corliss off to his wife and pulls her into a bear hug. "Stay safe in there, okay kid? We're gonna miss ya."

Jacy nods and buries her face in her brother's chest. He'd always given her strength, even when she was just a little kid. It feels like seconds later that he's leaving and she might never see him again. It takes all of her strength not to cry and cling to his leg and beg him not to let them take her. But even if she did that, he wouldn't be able to do anything. It was all up to her now.

Russell and Seq are her last two visitors, both in tears. Russell pulls her into a hug and refuses to let go, so Seq just throws his arms around both of them and the three of them just stand there crying for a couple of minutes before Seq lets go and wipes his eyes. "Hey, hey, it's our last few minutes together. We can't waste it like this."

Russell lets go of Jacy and sniffles. "What are you suggesting?"

"I dunno. Just… It would suck if my last memory of Jacy were her crying."

"It's not gonna be our last memory of her. She's gonna come back," Russell hiccups. "She's got to."

Seq wipes his eyes again. "Yeah, of course. Just… Let's be happy, yeah?"

And so they spend their last couple of minutes together making jokes between sobbing fits before the Peacekeepers come in and almost have to tear the boys off of her.

They were her last visitors, so she's sent out into the hallway to wait with Ashok. He tsks when he sees her. "We'll need to get you cleaned up before we get to the Capitol. Puffy eyes is _not_ a good look for you."

"Is it a good look for anyone?" Jacy mutters as she wipes her eyes.

Ashok sighs and rolls his eyes. "I should have known that your slip would be trouble."

The door to Alastor's room swings open and a small kid with shoulder-length blonde hair comes out. Their eyes are filled with tears and they let out a terrified squeak when they see Jacy and Ashok standing there, quickly turning and rushing off down the hallway. Alastor follows them out, his golden-brown eyes red and puffy from crying. Jacy notices that his neck is bruised with hickeys that definitely weren't there before.

"Both of you?" Ashok sighs again and flips his hair out of his eyes. "We'll have to work on that. Come on now."

He leads them outside towards the train that would take them away from all that they had ever known.

 **Hey guys! There's still five more spots available, the tribute list and form are on my profile. Thank you to everyone who has submitted so far, your tributes are wonderful! At this time, I am not yet opening it up to two tributes per person. Also on my profile is a "Now what?" section for those of you who have submitted a tribute. It's short, so I'll include it here as well.**

 **I strongly encourage you to review as I'm more likely to want to write tributes for people who I know are reading the story. Let me know which characters you like and want to see more of and you just might!**

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	4. D6 Reaping

_Demokritis "Kritis" Areleous, 17 years old, District Six tribute for the 44th Hunger Games_

"Kritis. Kritis, wake up." He feels his sister's hand on his shoulder and it takes all his willpower not to swat it away.

"Five more minutes," he mutters.

Hevea sounds apologetic. "Sorry Kritis. Vulcan says we need to start getting ready for the reaping."

Kritis groans and sits up, cracking his back. "Where are my glasses? I don't remember what I did with them last night."

"I've got them." His younger sister hands them to him. "You guys got in pretty late last night, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, Chambers just wanted us to put in some extra hours since the factory'll be closed all day today. He's worried about making quota." Chambers was the owner of the factory that Kritis and his brother, Vulcan, worked in. It specialized in producing parts for boats and Kritis worked in the outboard motors section.

"What happens if you don't make quota?"

Kritis shrugs. "Could be a couple of different things. He might hire more staff to try and make it next month, or if the Capitol thinks the factory's not working well enough, they might reassign some of the work to another factory and Chambers'll start laying people off."

"So you and Vulcan might lose your job?" Hevea bites her lip.

"Doubt it. Chambers freaks out about the reaping every year and we always make quota. We'll make it again this year."

The front door swings open and Vulcan comes in with a paper bag in his hand. His long, dark brown hair was tied back and – judging by the sweat on his forehead and neck – he seemed to have just been out for a run. He always ran when he got anxious. "I got us some fresh bread for breakfast."

Hevea's hazel eyes light up and she crosses the room to meet him. "Perfect!"

The three of them lived in a small apartment close to where most of the factories were, at the edge of the main district. It consisted of two small bedrooms and bathroom, as well as a tiny kitchen area. They had lived here ever since Vulcan had been able to gain custody of the younger two after their short stay in a children's home when their parents were unable to properly care for them.

It hadn't been their fault. Kritis tries to remind himself of that every time he thinks of his parents. They had done their best to provide for the family, working long hours and coming home late at night, leaving again early the next morning. The constant working meant that they had to leave Kritis and Hevea – then eleven and six – in Vulcan's care. The eighteen year old did his best, but it wasn't enough. The younger two were sent off to live in a children's home while Vulcan tried to get a steady job and a decent apartment for them to live in.

"Hey Demo, catch!" Kritis looks up in surprise as his older brother tossed him a chunk of the bread and just barely manages to catch it before it hits the floor.

"Vulcan! Careful, that's his breakfast!" Hevea scolds him.

"He caught it! Eat your breakfast Basil, we have to go soon." Vulcan prided himself on giving his younger siblings nicknames that no one else called them. Kritis got Demo, the first part of his name. Hevea got Basil, which was truly unique as no one outside of the family could even figure out where it came from. Vulcan had explained to Kritis that it came from the plant she was named after.

" _Hevea brasiliensis. They're the rubber trees that grow in the outskirts of the district. Take away the end of the word and the r and you get basil."_

" _That's too complicated for a nickname."_

" _Yeah, but it's cute."_

Kritis ate the bread quickly, his stomach growling from yesterday's long day of work. Vulcan's already finished with his breakfast and heading to their bedroom to get changed into his reaping clothes. "Eat fast kids, we've got to go."

Hevea heads to her bedroom, munching on her bread as she goes, and Kritis follows Vulcan into their shared bedroom.

"Are you nervous for the reaping?" he asks.

Kritis begins changing into his nice pants, biting his lip. "A little. I'm more nervous for Hevea. It's her first one."

"She'll be fine, she only has four slips in the bowl. But you've got twenty-four, you're more likely to be picked."

"It's only twenty more slips. She's got more than her friends do." Vulcan and Kritis had tried to convince Hevea not to take out any tesserae, but she had gone to the Justice Building one day after school when they were both off at work and couldn't stop her. They weren't happy about it, but they couldn't do anything to change it now.

"She'll be okay Demo. It'll be a seventeen or eighteen year old like it usually is." Vulcan turns to face him, halfway through buttoning up his shirt. "Which is where you fall in. Which is why I'm more worried about you than I am about her."

"I'll be fine, Vulcan. Twenty-four slips isn't that many."

"It's more than some kids your age."

"But less than others. I'll be fine."

There's a knock on the door and Hevea comes in. "You guys almost ready to go?"

They both nod and head out of the apartment, Vulcan locking up behind them. The air around their building was thick with smoke from the factories, the ground slick with oil from test cars. As much as Kritis hates how polluted their section of the district is, he still can't imagine a world where the pollution didn't exist. A district like Nine or Eleven, where there was greenery, clear air, and plants growing everywhere seemed so foreign to him.

"Hey, Kritis!" The call comes from across the street where Coop Fay was waiting for him. They had been friends for the past five years, ever since Kritis and his family had moved to this part of the district. Coop lived across the street and they had met walking home from work one day after they realized that they both lived and worked next to each other.

Kritis looks over at his siblings. "I'll catch up with you two later, alright?" They nod and continue down the road.

He crosses the street to where Coop is. "You seen Dyna yet?" Dyna Roberts was their mutual friend who also lived in the area.

"Not yet. I think she's still helping her sisters get ready."

"Wanna head over there then?"

"Sure."

The two boys head a few blocks over to where Dyna lives, arriving just as she was leaving her house. Dyna's long dark curls were pulled back in a ponytail with a black ribbon and she was smiling politely at her neighbour as he wished her luck at the reaping. Kritis always marveled at her ability to cuss and be as dirty minded as possible around him and Coop and then be the sweetest and most charming person ever as soon as an adult walked by.

"Hey! Dyna!" Kritis waves to get her attention.

"Hey! How's Hevea holding up?"

"Pretty well actually. She and Vulcan seem more worried about me."

"Well you do have more slips in the bowl."

"Only by twenty."

"Twenty's a lot Kritis," Coop says.

He sighs and pushes his glasses further up his nose. "I'll be fine. Even if – and it's a big if – I'm reaped, I stand a pretty decent chance. I'm strong, I'm fast, I'd be able to get sponsors… What more do I need?"

"A strategy that isn't based on running away, skill with weapons, knowledge of poisonous plants, the ability to survive in the wilderness..." Coop sighs. "Have you never thought about being reaped before?"

"Why would he?! That's the most depressing daydream ever, shit Coop!" Dyna stares at him. "Seriously, what the fuck?!"

"Have you guys seriously never thought about it before?" They both shake their heads. "Really? It's a very likely reality."

"You have a less than zero percent chance of being reaped if you think about it," Kritis points out. "Lots of people have their names in there."

"But somebody needs to be reaped. Who says it won't be me?"

Kritis throws his arm around his best friend's shoulder. "Because I'd volunteer for you, duh."

Coop sighs. "That's the dumbest suggestion you've ever had."

"Why? I would."

"You would die in the bloodbath."

Kritis can't help but feel slightly offended by that. "Are you kidding me? I'm strong, I'm fast, I could survive at least the first day."

"Kritis, no offense, but you're a bit… dim. You don't always think things through. And you're unbelievably loyal. Which is great when you're friends with someone, but not when you're allies."

"I hate to admit it, but Coop's right." Dyna sighs and shoves her hands into her pockets. "Kritis, you like everyone you meet and would die for any of them. Just look at fucking Ridley."

 _Not this again._ The two of them hadn't stopped bothering him about Ridley Skinner since the day they met. Despite Kritis being a wonderful judge of character, they both insisted that he was no good.

"Guys, I've told you already. Ridley's a good guy."

"He only hangs out with you because he wants to fuck you."

"He does not! Tell her, Coop."

Coop sighs. "Kritis, I know you think he's a good guy, but he's not. He's manipulative and you're going to end up hurt."

"I'll be fine. I can look after myself."

By this point they had reached the square and it was time to separate to sign in. Dyna throws her arms around the two of them and holds them close. "We'll be okay."

"Oh, how touching," a deep voice says from behind Kritis and Dyna glares over his shoulder at Ridley.

"Speak of the devil and he appears."

"Are you calling me the devil, Roberts?"

"Dyna, be nice."

Kritis turns around to look at Ridley. He looked more done up than usual, dark hair tamed and lying flat, dressed in a button up and slacks rather than his usual hoodie. He feels his heart skip a beat inside his chest and mentally curses himself.

"Hey kid. Nervous?" His eyes were focused on Kritis as per usual. He hates how he likes the attention.

"Why do people keep asking me that?"

"Maybe because we're in our last two years and that's when most people are reaped?" Coop points out.

Ridley glances over at him and Kritis feels a wave of desperation wash over him. _I need to get his attention back._ "Were you in this conversation?"

"Were you?" Dyna fires back.

"I was talking to Kritis."

"So were we."

Ridley sighs and starts towards the check in line. "I need to sign in. I'll meet you in the seventeen year olds' section, okay Kritis?"

"Sounds great." Coop and Dyna both glare at him and he tries not to blush. "What?"

"Sounds great? This is the reaping and Ridley we're talking about here. Two shitty things at once." Dyna says.

"Ridley is _not_ as bad as the reaping, how can you say something like that?!" Kritis pulls his arms close to his chest, feeling insecure, like his friends were seeing through his skin and reading his deepest, darkest, innermost secrets. He always felt like this when they saw Ridley. Something about the boy made him feel small and large at the same time. Like he was the only person in the world who mattered, but also like he was tiny and easy to read.

"Kritis, that's not what I'm saying. Just… Why do you trust this asshole? He's bad news."

"He's… I think he's okay. He's nice."

"To you."

"Dyna… Please..."

She sighs. "I'm sorry. I don't want to fight right now. It's the reaping, I don't want this to be one of our last memories together."

"It won't be."

"Kritis. Please. Just in case." She pulls him into a tight hug. "I'll see you in an hour, safe and sound."

"Of course."

Dyna gives Coop a quick hug. "You too. You'll be fine."

"And you will too." He gives her ponytail a quick tug before she hurries off to get signed in.

"Come on, we'd better get checked in too." Kritis leads his friend over to the check in table.

When they finally make it through the line up and into the main square, Kritis quickly begins to search out Ridley in the crowd of seventeen year olds. "Do you see him?"

Coop sighs and pushes his blond hair back from his eyes. "You're serious about this, huh?"

"Coop, he's a friend. It's just for an hour."

"You really like him, huh?" he asks as he pushes his way through the crowd.

"He's my friend. Of course I like him." Coop shoots him an exasperated look and Kritis rolls his eyes. "I know what you're thinking and no, I don't like him like that."

"But you think he's hot."

"Obviously. Have you seen him?"

"Yes, and I can see him now." Coop shoves aside the last few boys to reach Ridley. "Hey."

"Hey." Ridley reaches across Coop to pull Kritis closer to him. "How're you doing?"

"I'm just as fine as I was fifteen minutes ago."

"Cute."

They don't have the chance to say much more than that before Baki Samara takes the microphone. His silver hair had been gelled into multiple thick spikes, which, combined with the deep red colour his skin was dyed, gave him the appearance of an unappetizing piece of fruit.

"Good morning District Six! How are we all doing today?" A few people applaud but for the most part the crowd is silent. Baki huffs, clearly annoyed by their lack of reaction. "Very well, let's get started."

He walks over to the girl's ball and buries his hand deep in the pile of papers, swirling it around a few times before pulling out a paper and returning to the microphone. _Not Dyna, not Dyna, please not Dyna..._

"Risa Chandler!"

It doesn't take long for the fourteen year old section to begin moving as girls part to let District Six's latest tribute get through. The image on the large television scenes above the stage show a short girl with shoulder length brown hair and lightly tanned skin. She walks briskly up towards the stage, hands balled into fists, glaring at the ground.

"Ah, wonderful to meet you my dear. Now just stand here next to the microphone while I choose your district partner, alright?"

Risa doesn't answer him, so Baki quickly walks towards the boys' ball and slides his hand down the side to grab one close to the bottom. Coop slides his hand into Kritis' and squeezes tightly.

"Demokritis Areleous!"

Kritis feels the air get knocked out of him in an instant, feels his legs almost give out from underneath him, can hear Coop whispering no over and over again…

He starts towards the stage, letting go of Coop's hand, but is stopped by him grabbing his arm instead.

"Don't. I'll volunteer for you," he says quietly.

"Come on Coop, you're the smart one. Don't be stupid." He shoves off his arm and continues up towards the stage, trying not to shake too hard. _Fucking shit, I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm never going to see District Six again after today. I only have a few more minutes left with Hevea and Vulcan and Coop and Dyna. I'm going to die. In a month's time, there will be no more Demokritis Areleous, I'll be rotting in a grave somewhere in District Six._

"Wonderful to meet you my dear, just wonderful." Baki gestures at him to come over as he climbs up the steps. "Shake hands now you two, shake hands."

Kritis holds out his hand to Risa and she grips it tightly, her brown eyes still focused on the ground.

"District Six, your tributes for the 44th Annual Hunger Games: Risa Chandler and Demokritis Areleous!"

* * *

The doors of the Justice Building slam shut behind them and Baki doesn't even pause before ushering them down the hallway to the rooms where they would say their final goodbyes.

Kritis stares out the window at the square where the rest of District Six was milling around, parents hugging their children in relief that they'd be safe for another year. Unlike him. He would never be safe again in his life. Even if by some miracle he was able to win the Games and return home to his family and friends, he would be deeply scarred by the Games. He would have to kill twenty-three other children. And maybe he wouldn't do the actual killing, but it would feel like it.

The door to his room swings open and Hevea and Vulcan burst in.

"Kritis!" Hevea throws her arms around him. "They can't take you away, they can't!"

"They can. I'll be okay though, I stand a decent chance."

His little sister bursts into tears and Kritis gently strokes her hair. "You're gonna die!"

"Basil, have some faith in him, would you? He'll be fine." Vulcan gives him a reassuring smile. "You're right, you do stand a decent chance. Just… Stay out of the way of the Careers, okay?"

"Of course. I'll just… find a tree or something to hide in until the finale."

He nods. "And get an ally if you can. If you're smart about who you choose, they can usually help you get through the first chunk of the Games alright. Plus they've got your back in fights and can keep watch at night."

"Unless they betray me."

"Which is why you choose smart. Pick someone strong, but not too much stronger than you. But mostly someone that you can trust. It's better to have an ally who's weak than an ally who'll stab you in the back while you sleep."

"And come back alive, okay?" Hevea stares up at him, tear streaks on her pale cheeks, more tears welling up in her eyes.

"I'll do my best." He gently kisses the top of her head and murmurs, "Take care of Vulcan while I'm gone, okay? He might start overworking himself again."

Hevea nods quickly and hugs him tighter. "I love you," she squeaks.

"Love you too, kiddo."

She lets go of him and pulls something out of her pocket. "Here. For your token."

It's a small, silver pin with a design of twisting vines on it. "Hevea, where'd you get this?"

"I brought it in case one of us got reaped. Vulcan said it was Mom's."

Kritis glances up at his brother who was frowning. "Are you sure it's okay for me to take this?"

"Of course. She'd want you to have it in there, Demo."

The Peacekeeper opens the door. "Time's up."

After Hevea and Vulcan leave, Dyna and Coop enter the room.

"You should have let me volunteer for you," are the first words out of Coop's mouth.

"And let you die instead of me? I don't think so."

"You would have done it for me."

"That's exactly what I just said. I'd rather die than have you die."

Coop sighs and sits down on the couch, burying his face in his hands. Dyna frowns and sits next to him. "He'll be okay Coop, he's strong."

"He's going to die," he says quietly. "There's no way to beat the Careers."

"Well maybe he won't have to. Maybe there'll be a really fucking strong outer district tribute that'll take them out for him and the Careers'll take 'em out at the same time and then he'll just be left with the weak ones."

"That's still murder, Dyna. He's going to have to _kill_ people if we want to see him again. Our best friend will become a _murderer._ "

"Okay, okay, chill. No need to start hating on him before he's even killed anyone yet."

"I'm not… I'm not hating on him. I don't hate him." He looks up at Kritis. "I don't hate you."

"I know. I get it. I'm scared too."

"What if you don't come back?" Coop's voice is so quiet that he almost doesn't hear it.

"Then… I don't know, you go on without me? You'll be fine, you guys have each other."

The two of them glance at each other, something unspoken decided between them as they nod.

There's another knock on the door. "Time's up."

His next visitor is Ridley.

"How're you holding up?" On the whole, it's a much better greeting than the last two he had gotten.

"I'm…" He takes a deep breath. "I'm doing okay. Scared."

"Of what? The Careers?" Ridley puts his hands on Kritis' shoulders. "Let me tell you something kid. The Careers are nothing more than spoiled kids who bring that spoiledness into the arena with them. They're nothing."

"But they're strong. They've trained."

Ridley slides his hands down his arms. "You're strong too. And maybe you don't know how to use a weapon, but that doesn't mean that you don' stand a chance. You're smart and tough. Plus, with an ass like that, the Capitolites'll be swarming to you."

Kritis feels his ears heat up. "That won't make a difference, they'll have sponsors too."

"Kid. Relax, you'll be fine."

"But-"

He shuts him up with a kiss. Kritis feels his knees go weak at the same time as the muscles in his shoulders tighten. Ridley pulls back after a minute. "There'll be more of that when you come home. When. Not if."

"But-"

"Kritis, you'll be fine. Seriously, relax. It'll be over in a snap."

"If you're sure..."

"Positive. I'll see you in a month."

Ridley leaves and a man and a woman who look familiar come in slowly, as though worried that they're not supposed to be there. The man has dark brown hair and hazel eyes, while the woman has curly, light brown hair and burn marks up her pale arms.

"Demokritis?" The man's voice sounds so familiar, but he just can't place it.

"Yes? Who are you?"

The man looks over at the woman, who takes a shaky breath before speaking. "My… My name is Myrrine Areleous. This is my husband, Thoukydides. We're… We're your parents."

Kritis feels tears prick at his eyes as he rushes over to hug them. "I thought you wouldn't come."

"Of course we would. You're our son, why wouldn't we?" Myrrine gently strokes his hair and he can't help the tears that are rushing down his cheeks. He hadn't seen his parents since he was eleven years old. Six years wasn't very long in theory, but it was forever when it came to someone you loved.

"We… We never heard from you again. I thought you just stopped caring."

"We wanted to get in contact with you, we were just scared that you wouldn't want to see us. But we never stopped caring about you, not even for a second. We sent Vulcan money every month."

"You did?" They both nod. "He never mentioned that..."

"Don't worry about it. You'll win the Games, come home, and we'll be a family again," Thoukydides says.

Kritis nods. "Okay. Okay, it's a plan."

 **Hey guys! Since school's done for the summer, updates will hopefully become more frequent! If you haven't submitted yet and you'd like to, the District Five and Twelve tributes are all still open! The form's on my profile. We're now about halfway through the reaping chapters, so we'll be seeing the rest of the tributes soon!**

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	5. D8 Reaping

_Calico Stieber, 15, District Eight tribute for the 44th Hunger Games_

Calico Stieber was in a much better mood than when she had first woken up.

Her mother had made sure that she woke up early, flinging the blankets off of her daughter and exposing her to the cool morning air. "It's reaping day! Darling, you must get up now to prepare yourself for the reaping! All eyes will be on you after all."

Calico had felt around for her blankets, groaning and trying to hide herself deeper in the pile of pillows on her bed. "I doubt it. They'll be on the poor suckers who get reaped."

"Darling. You're the mayor's daughter and sole inheritor of Payne Factories. All eyes are always on you, no matter what."

Calico tried hiding under her blankets. They were still warm and she had been having such a nice dream…

Hexa ripped the blankets off of her bed, tossing them to the other side of the room. " _Up!_ "

But now, now she was in a much better mood. She had gotten dressed in her reaping clothes, which were among her favourite clothes. A simple black skirt and a pretty white shirt with ruffles. Perfectly Calico. Simple yet elegant.

Her mother had also brought her up some breakfast, which, like the rest of the district, was fancier than usual because it was the day of the reaping. But while the rest of the district got fancy by putting a bit of butter of their toast, the Stiebers got fancy by taking the thick rolls smeared with herbs that were characteristic of District Eight and covering them in melted cheese before dipping them in jams and jellies.

Hexa had also agreed to give Calico free reign on her long blonde hair, saying that as long as she could do her make up and accessories, she didn't care.

"After all, you can't mess it up too badly. You love that hair of yours too much to spoil it."

She was right. Calico had been growing her hair out long for years now, trimming it slightly every few months so that she wouldn't get split ends, and it was now down to past her waist, hanging just below the top of her buttocks. She usually wore it up in a ponytail or braided but her mother had recently become obsessed with trying out different hairstyles for her, mostly with disastrous results.

Calico secures the end of her braid and begins twisting it up into a bun on the top of her head. She stops with a section of the braid still loose and secures the bun with a couple of bronze-coloured clips. It takes a bit of maneuvering, as it's difficult to hold the bun in place with one hand and secure the clips with the other, but after months of practice, Calico was becoming more talented at it. She adds a few hair pins at the base of the bun to keep it attached to her head and lays the end of the braid on her shoulder. Perfect.

"That hairstyle? Really Calico?" Hexa stands in the doorway of her daughter's room, arms crossed, looking unimpressed.

"What's wrong with it?"

"You look like a peasant. It looks like a squirrel crawled on top of your head and died."

Calico plays with the end of her braid. "I think it looks good. And you gave me free reign. So I don't care what you think it looks like."

Hexa sighs and walks over to the vanity where Calico's sitting. "At least I can do your makeup and make you look semi-presentable. Turn."

Calico turns around to face her mother and is soon bombarded with all sorts of brushes and powders that Hexa puts all over her face. They're not as fancy or high-end as the stuff that they use in the Capitol, but they'll do.

"Violet will make your green eyes look so pretty..." Hexa murmurs to herself as she smears the powder onto Calico's eyelids.

By the time that her mother's done with her makeup, Calico is itching to leave. "Are we done yet?"

"Not yet." She carefully lifts a necklace out of Calico's jewelry box. It was one of Calico's favourites, a bronze chain with a simple heart outline as the charm. She likes to hook her finger through the heart when she gets nervous.

Hexa does up the clasp at the back of her neck. "Where are your bronze studs?"

"I don't know."

"Calico."

She sighs and opens the top drawer of her vanity to pull out the studs. She hated wearing earrings but Hexa had insisted that she get her ears pierced.

"It makes you look your class," she had said. "You should always dress your class."

Calico tries not to wince as the earrings slide through her ears. "Why do I have to wear them for the reaping though? Isn't this too much?"

"There's no such thing as too much. Now get your cloak, its windy today. Be downstairs in three minutes, your father needs to be at the square soon."

Calico grabs her cloak from the coat rack in the corner of her room and pulls it on. She only wore it on special occasions, the rest of the time sticking with just a nice jacket. But the cloak definitely added a level of fanciness to her outfit, which her mother would love.

Her parents were waiting for her downstairs, Ewald tapping his foot impatiently. "It took you long enough. Don't you understand that I have places to be?"

"I'm sorry." _Mother was the one holding me up,_ she thinks to herself. _If she had just let me get ready by myself, I would have been ready long ago._

He sighs. "Just don't cause any trouble during the reaping. You're representing the entire family. If you make a fool of yourself, your mother will lose business and I won't be reelected. You don't want that to happen, do you?"

Calico swallows, her father's gaze burning holes into her. "No sir. I'll behave."

"You'd better." He turns around and heads out the door towards the square.

One of the benefits of his position as mayor of District Eight meant that they got a nice house close to the square, the most elegant part of the district. Not that they hadn't had a beautiful house beforehand. Hexa's position as owner of a group of some of the most successful factories had ensured that. She dealt directly with the Capitol and Ewald had worked directly below her before running for mayor. Calico had grown up with one of the best lifestyles she could have hoped for in District Eight.

They reach the square just as the Peacekeepers finish setting it up for the reaping. Technically speaking, the mayor didn't have to be there this early, but Ewald was always one for punctuality. He hated when people were late.

Ewald leaves his wife and daughter with barely a goodbye, heading up towards the stage where his chair sits. Hexa grips Calico's shoulders tightly. "Now, behave during the reaping. Don't be rude to anyone, and if the girl's from your section, move out of the way quickly so that she can get through. And I think it would be a good idea if you go visit her afterwards."

"What? Mother, that's ridiculous! Why should I have to go talk to a girl I've probably never met just before she goes off to die? She'll probably be a factory worker and smell bad anyways," Calico mutters, hoping that she doesn't hear her.

She does. "That may be true, but it's not reason to not wish her luck. She'll be representing us and the district, and seeing you might remind her of that. We have too many victors that are rude and ungrateful about the second life they've been given. Besides, it'll make us look good. Appearances are everything."

Calico groans and adjusts the cloak on her shoulders. "Fine, I'll do it. But I'm not happy about it. She'll probably be dirty and try to steal my necklace."

"Yes, well, that's what poor people do. They steal things that those who work hard for their money deserve." She sighs and shakes her head. "If you can't make your own way in the world, you don't deserve charity. You'll do well to remember that Calico."

"I know. I'll see you after the reaping."

Calico heads over to the check in table to get her blood taken. It was a disgusting practice and she hated smearing her blood on the piece of paper. It always got all over her finger and made it look gross.

The fifteen year old girls section is empty when she gets to it, but it gradually begins to fill up as more and more people arrive at the square. Some of the girls were dressed in old skirts or dresses, others in pants, with most of them looking like they were hand-me-downs from an older sister or cousin.

Calico tries not to wrinkle her nose at the girls who were clearly from the poorest part of the district. If only they would at least _try_ to look nice on reaping day. Fancy wasn't necessary, but decent was. Even the girl standing next to her. Her hair was done into a couple of loose braids, multiple strands sticking out, and one of her knee socks was falling down her leg.

"Calico!" She looks over to see a girl with dark brown skin and black hair done up in a couple of braids.

"Deidra. Don't you think that hairdo's a little too twelve years old?" The girl standing next to her grabs one of her braids, glancing at it insecurely. _Good,_ she thinks. _You deserve to feel insecure for not caring about what you look like._

Deidra shrugs off the insult like it's nothing. "I think it's cute. And a lot easier than most of your hairstyles."

"Mine are elegant though. They don't make me look like a factory worker."

"I do _not_ look like a factory worker!" Deidra clenches her fists. "The hair may be simple, but this outfit is brand new! It's designed especially for me!"

"It makes you look like a bloated banana." The dress was bright yellow with ruffles around the waist and hips which she was sure were meant to hide Deidra's chub, but instead made it look as though she was swelling up.

"I do not! I bet I look better than Kandace at least!" Lotta Norn always seemed to be able to dress her daughter up in the most hideous outfits. The outfits wouldn't look too awful hanging up in Kandace's closet, but as soon as they were on her body they looked horrible.

"Have you two seen Kandace yet?" The two girls look over to see their friend Mira Presse pushing her way over to them.

"We were just talking about her. What's the outfit for this year?"

"Some geometrically patterned tea dress. The colours are hideous." Mira looks at the girl beside Calico. "Hey assface!"

The girl glances over nervously. "Y-Yes?"

"Your hair's horrible, why'd your parents let you leave the house looking like that?"

The girl looks like she's about to burst into tears even more than she had before and Mira snickers. "What a loser."

"Hey girls!" Kandace grabs Mira's arm. "How are you all doing this morning?"

"Let go of my arm, weirdo. That dress is awful, why do you still let your mother dress you? Are you five?"

Kandace bites her lip, brown eyes wide and upset. "She said it was cute."

"Ugh, you're such a child. Let go of my arm."

Kandace lets go of her arm, wiping her eyes quickly. Calico rolls her eyes. Kandace was so sensitive and got upset over the slightest bit of criticism. The only reason the other three still kept her around at all was because of how easy she was to manipulate.

"Excuse me, excuse me, sorry, excuse me. Oh, Auberta, is that a new blouse? It's adorable. Excuse me, excuse me, sorry."

Deidra nudges Calico. "Linum incoming."

Linum Maaz was quite possibly the most popular girl in their grade. Calico would love to be able to say that she was more popular than her, but Linum seemed to know and get along with everyone. Unlike the four of them, her parents were factory workers, which really should have meant that everyone looked down on her, but instead they adored her because she was friendly to everyone, even the dirty ones.

Linum stops beside Kandace. "Oh my gosh, is that a new dress?"

Kandace nods, staring at the ground and sniffling. "My mother said it was cute."

"It is! Kandace, you look beautiful! And Deidra!" she squeals and Calico resists the urge to plug her ears. "You look amazing, oh my gosh!"

"Thanks Linum. Your skirt's… cute?" Calico doesn't know how her best friend can lie so easily. The skirt was the colour of dirt and starting to fray along the edge.

"Thanks! It's a hand-me-down, so it's a bit old, but it's clothes!" She laughs before noticing the girl next to Calico. "Joy!"

The girl looks over again, brightening slightly. "Linum!"

"Oh my gosh, I haven't seen you in ages! How's your dad doing? I was sorry to hear about his accident."

"He's… okay."

"Oh, I'm glad to hear that. Find me after the reaping, we need to catch up." Linum keeps making her way through the crowd. "Excuse me, pardon me, sorry, excuse me. Alvita, I forgot to tell you on Friday! Your haircut's so cute! Excuse me, sorry, excuse me."

"Ugh, how is she so nice all the time?" Mira sneers.

"I like her!" Kandace pipes up.

"That's because you're an idiot."

Kandace ducks her head as tears rush to fill her eyes and the other three snicker.

There's a loud microphone shriek as Adine Kazarian steps up to it. Like a few of the other escorts, they seemed to thrive off of getting the district's attention by tapping the microphone. Their purple hair was tied up in a bow shape and their gold skin seemed to be sparkling, though Calico couldn't tell if it was from the same surgery that had turned their skin gold or just from copious amounts of glitter.

"Good afternoon, District Eight! Isn't the sun just glorious today? There's a bit of a wind, but that's alright! Are we all excited for the reaping?" Mira claps and Calico scrunches her nose at her.

"What? Mother said that the Capitol appreciates our enthusiasm. Didn't your father tell you the same?" She sighs and tosses her hair over her shoulder. "I knew they chose the wrong mayor. No respect."

Calico clenches her fists, trying to focus on the reaping and not on punching her friend. Adine makes their way over to the female's bowl and dips a glittery hand into the papers. They make their way back to the microphone, long legs making quick work of the distance.

"Calico Stieber!"

She can't believe it. She literally can't fucking believe it. She's the mayor's daughter. The mayor's daughter doesn't get reaped, especially not with only four slips in the bowl! What bullshit. They must have called the wrong name. It must have been Kaliko, like with a _li_ _e_ noise rather than a _le_. They must have been mistaken. She must have heard wrong.

Her friends are all staring at her though, Kandace in tears. She can't have heard wrong if they all heard the same thing. They must have been mistaken. But Adine isn't correcting themself. They must have picked her name. But how? She's the mayor's daughter. That doesn't happen. That just doesn't happen. The poor kids are chosen. Maybe she should make one of her friends volunteer. Kandace would probably do it if she asked.

Calico glances up at the stage where her father sits. It can't have been more than a few seconds since her name was called, the cameras hadn't even found her in the crowd yet, but Ewald was already glaring at her, clearly telling her to get a move on. He hated it when the tributes took forever to get to the stage. He said it was a waste of everyone's time.

 _Tribute. I'm a tribute now,_ Calico realizes as she walks to the stage, trying not to stomp her way up. _The mayor's daughter is a tribute. I can't believe it. I can't fricking believe it._

"Oh honey, welcome! It's a pleasure to meet you!" Adine shakes her hand and Calico resists the urge to ask to see the paper. That would just be embarrassing.

Adine strides off to the males' ball to pick her district partner and Calico looks over at her father. His arms are crossed and he's frowning, which doesn't tell her very much as it's his default facial setting. _Is he upset? Is he sad? Is he as angry as I am?  
_

"Mark Zephyr!"

The name doesn't sound familiar to Calico, so she crosses her fingers and hopes for a tiny twelve year old who wouldn't pose a threat.

The sixteen year old section begins shifting to let the boy out and Calico swallows nervously. He's tall, nearly six feet, which would definitely give him an advantage over her and her… height. His light brown hair is short and neatly styled, his face void of emotions. _Could be dangerous if he's calm. Could also be meaningless._

"Oh honey, welcome! It's a pleasure to meet you!" Adine shakes his hand before guiding him over to Calico. "Now shake her hand, that's it!"

Calico tries not to wrinkle her nose at the roughness of Mark's hand. He's definitely worked in a factory before, though he's not scrawny and underfed like most factory brats. _That could be a problem._

"District Eight, your tributes for the 44th Hunger Games: Calico Stieber and Mark Zephyr!" Adine puts their hands on their shoulders and guides them inside.

"Now Calico, you've got the first room right here, feel free to sit down. And Mark, you'll-" She can't hear the rest of what they're saying as the door closes and she's left alone in the room.

She has about a minute or so to herself before her parents come in, Hexa already in tears. "You… You had so much to live for!"

Calico stares at her mother for a minute before shaking her head. "I'm not dead yet, you don't have to cry."

She keeps crying anyways. "You were going to finish school, and take over the company, and run for mayor, and continue the legacy! And now you're just going to die in the bloodbath!"

"I'm not going to die in the bloodbath! I'm going to win and become a victor!"

"Oh yes, and you'll go off and live in the Victor's Village, won't you? That stupid Stringer boy will probably get you hooked on drugs!" Hexa shouts, referring to Bronx Stringer, the victor of the 40th Games.

Calico rolls her eyes. "I'm not going to become a drug addict. If you just came here to tell me I'm going to die in the bloodbath, why even bother coming at all?"

"Don't mouth off to your mother, young lady." Ewald speaks up for the first time since they came in. "She's just being realistic."

"So am I! I can win this!"

"You're fifteen, girl! You have no real world skills!"

"Ewald!" Hexa stares at her husband, shocked.

"I'm just telling her the truth, Hexa! We've been spoiling her for too long now! It's time for her to grow up and realize that she won't be able to make it very far without our help!"

"Fine! If you don't want to be a part of my life, why don't you just leave? I don't _need_ your help! I'll do just fine in the arena on my own! And when I come back, I'll grow up and live on my own, since that's what you want!" Calico glares at her father, fists clenched at her sides.

"Darling, he didn't mean it like that. Ewald, tell her!"

"No! I don't want him to take it back!" Calico takes a step back. "I'm serious! If you don't think I can make it, just leave! I don't need your support anymore!"

Ewald glares at her. "You'll be sorry you said that when you realize how useless you really are."

He turns around and leaves the room, door slamming shut behind him. "Darling, he doesn't know what he's saying. He's just upset that you were reaped, that's all. You'll see."

"I don't care. I don't want or need his support anymore."

"Darling, don't burn your bridges. Please, take care of yourself. We need you to come home."

 _Because otherwise Payne Factories gets handed off to someone outside the family,_ Calico thinks. That was all her mother ever thought about, her damn company. But she keeps her mouth shut, not wanting to start a second fight in the last few seconds.

"Fine. I'll do my best."

There's a knock on the door before a Peacekeeper opens it. "Time's up."

Hexa gives Calico a tight smile. "Well, this is it. We'll see you in a few weeks."

She leaves and Deidra and Kandace come in. Kandace is bawling but Deidra is smiling calmly. "Well this is an interesting development."

"Where's Mira?"

Deidra shrugs, taking a seat on the sofa. "She said you're a bitch and she didn't care if you died."

Kandace cries harder at that. "I-It was horrible, C-Cal! S-She was so r-rude!"

"Oh grow up, Kandace. She was insulting Calico, not you."

Calico snorts. " _I'm_ not even offended by that. I would probably do the same if it was her."

"That's such a horrible thing to say! I can't believe how mean you two are!" Kandace pulls a handkerchief out of her pocket and blows her nose.

"Really Kandace? We say worse than this all the time." Deidra tilts her head back, staring up at the ceiling. "It'll be weird with you gone though, Cal. Who's gonna make fun of Linum and her friends with me?"

"Mira probably will."

"Won't be the same though. Guess I'll have to take charge in your place then, huh?" Deidra grins at her and Calico tries not to scowl. _Of course you're going to take my place,_ she thinks. _You've only been after it forever._

"How c-can you worry a-about that now, Deidra? C-Calico's going… going to die!" Kandace lets out another sob and Calico tries not to slap her.

"Oh come _on_ Kandace! I'm going to be fine! Stop crying already, you're making your face blotchy."

"Not that it isn't already," Deidra says and Kandace wipes desperately at her eyes.

"It's… It's just-"

"Kandace. Stop. I'll be fine. If it were you, I would understand crying but jeez, have some faith in me, would you?"

She nods. "Of… Of course. Y-You can do it!"

"Wow, now all you need is some pompoms," Deidra says sarcastically and Kandace's eyes start watering again.

Calico can't take anymore of her friend's waterworks so she decides to end the goodbyes before the Peacekeeper tells her to. "I think time's almost up. I'll see you guys in two weeks, bye!"

She practically shoves them out the door and is surprised to see Linum Maaz standing outside the door waiting. "Linum?"

The other girl smiles. "Hey Calico. I was hoping I could talk to you before you leave?"

"Fine."

Linum comes in, closing the door quietly behind her. "I… I know we're not exactly friends, and that you don't exactly like me much, but I wanted to wish you luck."

"Excuse me?"

"I wanted to wish you luck. I mean, our district's been doing alright lately, but we're not Careers, so I-"

"Stop. I don't need luck. Especially from some poor girl."

"Calico, you don't have to be rude to me here. Your friends aren't around."

"You think I'm just keeping up appearances?"

Linum blinks in surprise. "Aren't you? I always-"

She was cut off by the door opening and Adine sticking their head in. "Honey, Mark's done with his goodbyes, so we're ready when you are! No rush though!"

"It's fine. She was just leaving."

"Calico..." Linum looks at her sadly.

"I don't need luck, okay? I'm going to win this thing on my own."

 **Hey guys! The D5 and D12 boys are still available, so if you haven't submitted yet and you would like to, the form's on my profile! We've just got a couple more reaping chapters and then we're onto the action! Also, the character of Bronx Stringer belongs to my friend CelticGames4.**

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	6. D9 Reaping

**TW for a panic attack from "There's a slight pop" to "But Enej is patient."**

 _Maui Keoni, 14, District Nine tribute for the 44th Hunger Games_

Maui's forehead is pressed against the wall when he wakes up and he curls up tighter, pressing his legs closer to the wall separating him from his sister's room. He sleeps like this every night, practically unable to sleep without being pressed against the wall or a piece of furniture. He'll have to get up in a minute to make breakfast, but he can spare himself a few more moments of warmth underneath his blankets.

He eventually drags himself out of bed and over to the closet in the corner of the room he and his brother shared. Makaio complains about it sometimes, since Durum and Momi get their own bedrooms, but the rent for the four bedroom apartment was cheaper and meant that they could afford more food, clothing and furniture, as well as the occasional treat. It also allowed their parents to keep the four of them in school until they were sixteen or seventeen.

Maui grabs a pair of pants from the closet and pulls out one of the drawers from under his bed. Since they shared a room, there wasn't enough room for him and Makaio to have a dresser for their clothes. Instead, all of the shirts, socks, and underwear were stored in drawers under their beds, while their pants hung in the closet.

He gets dressed quickly, being careful not to wake up Makaio, who was still snoring in the bed beside him. The weather outside his window was gray and wet, the window ledge dark from last night's rain. It looks like it might rain later today, so Maui makes a mental note to grab a jacket before he leaves for the reaping.

Their mother had spent the previous night fussing over the four of them and making sure they all had showers and clean dress clothes before going to bed. It was the only year that all of them would be eligible for the reaping and she was even more concerned than usual because there was a chance that any one of them could die. Her worst fear was that Momi and one of the boys would be reaped and she would have to lose one or both of her children.

His father had mocked Semolina's fears, saying that it was a rarity for siblings to be reaped alongside each other.

"They barely even stand a chance at being reaped. Look at Lehua. She made it out just fine."

Lehua was Iokua's daughter from his previous marriage but Maui had only met her twice before. From what he remembered, she was ten years older than him and loud, so he doubted that they would have even gotten along if she lived with them. Iokua had given her mother full custody, only going to visit her on her birthday and after her reapings when she had been eligible.

Maui makes his way to the kitchen, grabbing eggs and ham from the fridge and bread and a few frying pans from the cupboards. He sets up the frying pans on the stove, fills them with a bit of oil and adds the ingredients.

He's taking the first batch off the heat when Momi emerges from her room, dark brown hair tied in a braid, the ocean blue of her reaping dress standing out against her light brown skin.

"Hey Maui, what's for-" She stops to yawn. "For breakfast?"

"Eggs, ham and toast." He hands her the completed plate.

She accepts it gratefully before taking a seat at the table. "Is anyone else awake yet?"

"Not yet."

He's just finished adding the next round of food when Durum comes out of his bedroom, still in his pajamas. "I smell food."

"Eggs, ham and toast. Dad's going to kill you if he sees you like that at breakfast," Momi responds.

Durum steals a piece of ham from the frying pan and Maui yelps at seeing how close his fingers come to the hot metal. "I'm getting dressed in a minute, I just wanted ham first. It's my last reaping sis, chill."

He disappears back into his room to get dressed and Maui adds a fresh piece of ham to the pan. "Do you think he's scared?"

"Probably."

"He doesn't seem scared of anything."

"That's just what he wants you to think. You should see him at work. Everyone makes him take the shitty jobs because they know he'd do anything rather than argue with them."

Before long they're joined by the rest of their family, all dressed in their best clothes for the reaping. Iokua was firm about no pajamas at the breakfast table and they all followed the rule, not wanting to be scolded first thing in the morning.

There was the usual scramble for food from Durum and Makaio, the youngest Keoni trying to pile up his plate with as much food as his older brother. They all knew he would only be able to eat about half of it, three quarters if he was really hungry, but their parents had long since given up on scolding him for it. The leftovers usually went into his school lunch anyways.

"Momi, will you be seeing Princeton before the reaping?" Semolina asks, cutting up her bread with a knife and fork. Maui had picked up the habit from her, much to Iokua's displeasure.

"I'm not sure. It's his little sister's first reaping, so he might want to spend the morning with her." Princeton was Momi's boyfriend of two months, though the family had yet to meet him. When she had told them that she was dating someone, they had all assumed it would be someone from her work so Durum at least would have met him, but apparently they had met through Momi's friend Estelle.

Iokua rolls his eyes. "All this fuss over someone's first reaping. It's ridiculous."

"Yeah! She should be like me and just suck it up," Makaio says.

Maui tries not to squirm uncomfortably. The truth was, he was scared. The thought of being reaped terrified him, especially when he was still too young to have even the slightest chance. If he were seventeen or eighteen, maybe he wouldn't be as scared. Then if he was reaped, he would be big enough to stand a chance against the non-Career tributes. But when he was still just fourteen, he was too little to stand up to them, let alone the Careers. He couldn't imagine how scared a twelve-year-old would be.

There's a knock at the door and Iokua gets up to answer it. "Durum, it's Jamie."

Durum gets up to leave the table and Semolina immediately begins fussing over him, making sure that his shirt was tucked in and he wasn't too nervous. Durum complains, Jamie snickering in the doorway, and Semolina gives him a light smack on the head.

"You're more in danger than any of them! Be careful and try not to worry."

"I won't. I've made it through five years of reapings; I'll make it through the seventh one."

Durum then leaves and Maui starts to clean up the dishes from breakfast. Before long, there's a second knock at the door and Enej Perko is there waiting for him.

The two of them had been friends for years, as Enej lives just down the hall from them. He was Maui's backbone, there to stick up for him when he couldn't. Which was most of the time.

"Hey Maui! You ready to go?"

"Just give me a minute!"

He grabs his jacket from its hook and pulls it on as he runs back to his room. He grabs the small stuffed beaver that sits on his bed and tucks it carefully into the pocket of his jacket. He had been bringing Bucky with him to the reaping since he was twelve, both as a source of comfort and as a token in case he was reaped. He had owned the toy since he was born and there was nothing else he'd rather take as a token. It helped to calm him down when he got anxious and started panicking.

He runs back out to where Enej is waiting for him and pulls on his shoes. "Okay, I'm ready to go!"

They start down the stairs leading out of their apartment building. They were well off enough to have nice apartments in a nice neighbourhood – or at least not one riddled with crime and disease – but not well off enough to have an elevator in their building. Which meant that the stairwells could sometimes get crowded, especially on a day like today where everyone was trying to leave at once. Maui and Enej tried to head out early because of that, hoping to avoid the pileup.

The crowds also meant that it was annoying if you stopped and sat on the stairs.

Like this girl.

Enej just rolls his eyes and keeps walking down the stairs, but Maui notices that the girl has her face buried in her knees and is sniffling quietly.

"Are you okay?"

The girl looks up, wiping at her eyes quickly. "Oh! I'm sorry, I'm blocking the way, aren't I?"

"It's fine! We can still get around you just fine. What's wrong?"

"Maui!"

He looks over at his friend. "She's upset."

Enej sighs, knowing that this is about the only fight he won't be able to win against Maui. "Fine."

Maui turns back to the girl, kneeling a few steps in front of her. "What's your name?"

"Alza Tanten," she says, sniffling. "I'm twelve."

"Are you nervous about the reaping?"

She nods.

"Try not to worry about it too much. You only have one slip in, right?" Another nod. "Then you probably won't be reaped. Most kids with only a slip or two don't get reaped at all, let alone the first year."

"How many do you have?"

"Three. My brother has seven though, and he's been fine every year."

"Oh. So I'll probably be okay."

"With one slip? I doubt her hand will even brush it."

Alza gives him a teary smile and Enej says his name again as the door to a lower floor opens up. The crowd will be coming soon.

"You'd better go get dressed or you'll be late," he says, noting the jeans that she's wearing. Very few parents from their building would let their child wear jeans to a reaping. "What are you doing out here anyways?"

"I didn't want my parents to worry," she says as she gets up.

Maui nods. "Good luck. I'm sure you'll be fine."

Alza runs back upstairs to her floor and Maui continues downstairs with Enej. "I can't believe you did that. No wait, I can."

He gives his friend a sheepish smile. "Sorry. She just seemed really upset."

"No wonder. It's her first year. Everyone's terrified their first year."

"And their second year. And third year."

"I guess. But we really don't have much to worry about. Like you said, we only have three slips. If anyone from our building's getting reaped, it's going to be a seventeen or eighteen year old."

They then walk to the reaping and sign in, heading to the fourteen-year-olds section after their blood is taken. Antonella Malyn is already on stage behind the microphone, ready and waiting for the rest of the district to show up. Half of her hair has been shaved off and the stubble left behind is dyed bright red. The other half of her hair is long and dyed the same orange colour as her skin. Maui suspects that she thought it was a fun look, but instead she looks like she just had her skull smashed in.

Once the clock hits one, she pulls the string of the confetti cannon in her hand and the tiny pieces of paper flutter down to the stage with a bang.

"Good afternoon District Nine!" Unlike most of the escorts for the outer districts, Antonella seemed to actually be happy with her district or at least managed to pretend to for the reaping. "Let's all do our best to continue our winning streak!"

Or she was still running off of the high from winning last year's Games.

Avalon Parker, the victor of the 43rd Hunger Games, is sitting in the only victor's chair behind Antonella. District Nine had a previous winner before her, but he killed himself not long after his Games, a few years before Maui was born. Both their victors had won with no mentorship, making them strong victors, capable of figuring things out on their own without guidance. The districts and Capitol were expecting a lot out of Avalon and her mentorship this year. She was only eighteen though, and Maui feels bad for her. Having to figure out how to keep two children alive while having barely kept herself alive last year would be a difficult task.

"Shall we begin with the girls? They were lucky last year!" Antonella winks at them before walking over to the female ball, stilettos clicking away on the stone stage.

She circles her hand above the ball before plunging it into the pile of papers, rustling them around a bit. She eventually settles on one and walks back over to the microphone, pulling another confetti cannon out of her belt as she goes.

"Rhema Hilkes!" She pulls the string on the second cannon and more papers cover the stage.

There's the usual pause before the cameras focus in a girl emerging from the sixteen section. She's short and slim with wavy ginger hair falling around her shoulders and freckles covering her cheeks. She's looking towards the public section, probably searching for someone. She seems to find them though and proceeds towards the stage calmly, appearing much more confident than she had moments before.

Rhema's just begun climbing the steps when someone bumps into Maui from behind.

"Hey, watch it!" Enej snaps at the boy who bumped him and he gets an apologetic smile in return.

"Sorry. Someone's trying to get out of the fifteens."

"What? Are they trying to run before they've even been reaped?"

"I volunteer!" The TV screen switches from Rhema to the boy who's just burst out of the fifteen-year-olds section. He has messy blond hair but the same big green eyes as Rhema. "I volunteer as tribute!"

Antonella stares at him in shock before shaking her shoulders slightly, snapping herself out of it. "As the male tribute?"

"No, for Rhema! I want to take her place!"

"What. An. Idiot." Enej says, peering around Maui to try to get a better look at the boy. "Does he even know what he's doing?"

Antonella clears her throat, clearly uncomfortable. "Well, you can't. You're in the male section, you can't volunteer for the female tribute."

"What? But I-" The Peacekeepers nearby grab him and start forcing him back into his section. "I want to volunteer though! Rhema!"

The screen switches back over to Rhema, who just shrugs, appearing almost numb.

Antonella clears her throat again, obviously trying to get control over the reaping again. "Let's pick our male tribute now, shall we? And if you want to volunteer then, that's fine."

She walks over to the male ball, slower than she had been with the female ball, probably trying to regain her composure. She rustles the papers around before marching back over to the microphone, fumbling slightly with the confetti cannon as she detaches it from her belt.

"Maui Keoni!"

There's a slight pop but it sounds like it's coming from far away, some distant land where some distant child who _was not him_ had just been handed his own death warrant. He sees the ground rushing up to meet him, feels the hard gravel of the square beneath his knees, feel Enej's arms wrap around him to keep him from completely falling over. He hears the voices of the boys in the distant land protesting as the distant child topples over, complaining about how he almost knocked them over. He understands now the desperation of the earlier boy to volunteer, the complete loss of control, even if he normally would be careful not to get in someone else's way.

He hears the distant voice of a distant best friend, telling him that he needs to get up before they come for him, that he will be with him soon, it'll be alright. Be where soon? Who's coming for him?

The arms around him help him to his feet and there's a light shove on his back and…

And then he's moving on his own, coming out of the male section and walking with his own two feet. As always, Enej can give him courage when he has none of his own.

And then the screaming starts. It's distant as well, but vaguely familiar, as though he had heard the voice before, but had never heard it screaming before. As though it was never meant to scream like this.

There's the taste of salt in his mouth now, and he's wrapping his arms tightly around himself to keep the gasps in, wishing desperately he could grab hold of Bucky and hug him tightly too, just like he did when he was little and tasted the saltiness in his mouth. Like he did when he didn't have Enej beside him backing him up, and was teased and taunted.

But he can't now. He has to be strong. Be strong for the last few steps.

The screaming's stopped now.

His feet bump against stone and through the water in his eyes he can make out the vague shape of steps in front of him. He stumbles his way up them, shoving one hand into his pocket to make sure Bucky was still there. Safe. He wouldn't be able to handle it if he wasn't.

The gasps are coming quick and loud, the taste of salt filling his mouth. There's more distant voices and another distant bang and then he's being shoved inside, tripping over his own feet as he pulls Bucky out of his pocket and hugs him tightly, a door shutting somewhere in the distance.

His legs give out again, the last of Enej's courage leaving him, and he collapses to the ground, doubling over and sobbing into Bucky's soft fur.

There's the distant sound of a door opening and then arms wrapping around him and a face burying itself in his neck. He recognizes the smell of blueberries. _Enej._

The face in his neck straightens up and he can hear Enej's voice, still distant. "Maui. Maui, breathe with me, okay?"

He does his best, but he's gasping and choking, salt filling his mouth. Enej makes breathing seem so easy, just slow breaths in and out, no hiccups or blocks where you just can't breathe no matter how hard you try.

But Enej is patient. Enej is loving and kind. He breathes with Maui, using up his rapidly ticking down minutes to calm him down. The thought sends Maui into another panic and he begins gasping for air again but Enej shakes his head.

"Shh shh shh… It's okay. We've got time. We've got time, Maui," he helps him lie down, rests his head in his lap and gently strokes his hair. "We've got so much time. All the time in the world." Maui might be imagining it, but he thinks his voice cracks as he says that.

"I-I'm gonna die..."

"No. No, you will not die. You have Avalon. And Antonella. She's helped so many tributes in the Games. She'll help you too. And you have Bucky. He helps you through everything," his voice seems to crack again. "Every single little thing."

Maui grabs Enej's hand. "Stay with me."

Enej grips his hand tightly and he can feel water land on it. "I want to. I want to so bad. But I can't."

He feels warmth pressing into his hair and the soft whisper of air against his skin. "I wish you could stay here with me forever. But you will come home. I know it. You have to. You have to." Another crack.

Maui can't stand how his best friend's voice cracks. Enej is strong and fearless, courageous in the face of danger. He doesn't get upset or cry.

He hugs Bucky tighter. "I'll come home. To you. And I'll stay forever."

"And ever," Enej replies quietly.

There's a loud knock on the door and a Peacekeeper opens it. "Time's up."

Maui tightens the grip on his hand. "No. No, time's not up. We still have time. We have all the time in the world. We can't- I can't leave you. No!"

Enej slowly begins to get up. "Maui. Maui, I'm sorry, you have to let go now. I have to go. Please." Another crack.

He feels the breath in his throat shudder and choke and he grabs his arm. "No! Please! Please, you have to stay! Please!"

"Maui. I'm sorry." There are tears running down his best friend's face, tears he's never seen before. "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. Forever. I promise. Forever and ever."

The door shuts behind him as the Peacekeeper pulls him out and Maui collapses back onto the floor, sobbing and gasping. _He's not gone forever, he's not gone forever, I'll see him again, I just have to believe, he's not gone forever, he's not gone forever, he's-_

The door opens up again and Maui shoots upright, salt filling his mouth. _He's back._

He isn't, but his family is. Semolina has tears rushing down her face which only makes more salt pour into his mouth. Momi and Durum both have red eyes, Makaio's clutching Iokua's arm, his eyes filled with tears. Their father seems to be the only one who's reasonably calm, stroking Makaio's hair to calm him down.

"You'll be just fine, Maui," he says. "The Games are nothing to be afraid of."

"People _die_ in them!" Momi shoots back, kneeling beside her brother. "Maui, we saw Enej outside, did he already say goodbye?"

The taste of salt gets stronger as he nods, unable to speak through the lump in his throat.

"He must have run from his section after he saw you were panicking," Durum says.

He feels Momi's arm around his shoulders as he nods again. "I-I don't want to leave."

Durum looks broken. "I'm sorry, Maui. I… I should've volunteered. Like that boy tried to do. I just… I just got scared. I know it's not an excuse, I just-"

"It's fine." He can't stand how upset everyone looks. They all look so broken, even the ones he saw as being rock hard and sturdy. They all seemed so fragile now and it was all his fault.

"M-Maui..." Semolina's staring at him, tears rushing down her face. "Maui…"

"M-Mom?"

She throws her arms around him, pulling him in close. Nutmeg. _Mom._ "Oh honey… Oh honey, I never meant for this to happen to you! My poor baby..."

He buries his face in her shoulder and feels the fabric beneath him moisten as more salt fills his mouth. He hates the taste of salt by this point, hates how it makes him feel weak and useless.

"Come back, Maui. Pl-Please." It's Makaio, staring at him with big brown eyes. The same big brown eyes that would narrow at him whenever Maui took the desk in their bedroom after supper and forced him to do his homework on his bed. Now they were sad and tear-filled, like his whole world was crumbling down around him.

"I-I'll try."

There's a second knock on the door. "Time's up."

Maui clutches his mother tighter, trying to get her to stay. Like it would work this time. Like maybe they wouldn't be able to separate them and so they would send someone else in instead of him.

It doesn't work though, and before long he's left alone in the room again. Alone with the taste of salt and the choking lump in his throat, and the heaves and gasps of his chest.

 **Hey guys! I now have all the tributes which is super exciting, so there won't be any pause between chapters 7 and 8 like I was worried there might be! Next chapter is the last reaping and then we move onto the rest of the Games! I'm hoping to have it up by the end of this week if possible!**

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	7. D11 Reaping

_Magda Hofwegen, 17 years old, District Eleven tribute for the 44th Hunger Games_

Magda pulls on her shoes, ignoring how they pinch her toes. They're an old pair that her mother had passed on to her and she only ever wore them for reapings. They weren't comfortable, but they looked nice and she could walk in them, so she didn't care much about them beyond that.

She had been awake for a few hours now, used to the early mornings of farm life. She had grown up in a small village whose main purpose was to grow sugar beet and had been working mostly full time for the past couple of years now. Her days began early, heading out to the fields with her father while her brother stayed cocooned in his bed. They were fortunate that Roeland didn't have to work yet, though Magda wondered how long that would last. She had been about his age when their mother left and she took over the role of second breadwinner and she knew he would feel guilty if he stayed in school for longer than her, especially when they could always use extra money.

Their father would never force him to work though, especially when it wasn't necessary. Magda had made the choice to leave school and work when their mother left, and although Alan was grateful for the extra money, she knew he would never have asked her to work.

Their village was a day's drive away from the main district, so they had driven up the night before and spent the night in the so-called 'reaping hotels.' They were large structures on the edge of the main district built for people who have to travel to the reaping to stay in. It wasn't much, just a small room with matressing on the floor and blankets folded in the corner, but it was somewhere to stay for the night before the reaping. They would be driving home again as soon as the reaping was over.

Her father had insisted that they spend the first couple hours of the day together as a family, playing cards with the deck that he had brought from home. Magda hadn't minded the first twenty minutes or so, but then Roeland's restlessness started to bug her. He could barely sit still for more than five minutes, let alone two hours, and so they had to be constantly changing what game they played to keep him entertained.

But now. Now she got to go off and look around the main district with her friends. Eleanor and Rosalie were probably already at the shops closer to the square. They would only be open for another hour or so before everyone started heading to the reaping and Magda intended to make the best use out of that time as she could.

"Are you going to meet _Eleanor?_ " Roeland asks. He was still making a big deal out of them spending time together, even though the two girls had been dating for a little over a year now.

"And Rosalie."

"Poor Rosalie. Forever the third wheel."

"Well, I'm sure Magda and Eleanor don't see her like that, do you Maggie?" Alan says. "After all, you're just a group of friends hanging out."

Magda tries not to roll her eyes. It wasn't that her father didn't accept the fact that she was dating another girl, it was more that he didn't really get it. He would forget that they weren't just really close friends, they were _dating._ She tried not to get annoyed, but after a year of having to remind him over and over again that Eleanor was her _girlfriend,_ it was hard to keep her patience.

"No, we don't see her like that. We may be _dating_ but she's still our friend."

"Yes, exactly. See Roeland? No need to worry about Rosalie, she's perfectly happy."

"Great, glad we got that cleared up. I'm going to go meet Eleanor and Rosalie in the market, I'll see you after the reaping," Magda says, straightening up.

"Are you going to be spending money?" Alan asks.

"I'm going to see if I can buy Eleanor a present for her last reaping. I've been saving up for a while for it, don't worry."

"Alright. Wish them luck for us!"

Magda hurries off down the hallway and out of the hotel. They had been lucky enough to be put on the first floor of the hotel, which meant that they didn't need to push past people in the stairwells. As she passes a few merchants on her way to the marketplace, she can hear them betting on the reapings.

"Who do you think will be reaped this year? Ages?" asks one of them.

"Young boy, older girl," replies another.

"That's not an age, Ford! You're gonna say you won so long as the girl's older than the boy, even if they're seventeen and eighteen!"

"Come on man!"

The merchant apparently called Ford sighs and pushes his hair out of his face. "Fine, fine. Girl seventeen, boy twelve."

"There we go. I'm thinking girl eighteen, boy fourteen."

"I'm thinking the boy'll be older. Fifteen and thirteen."

Madga shudders and tries not to think about the reaping too much. Especially not about the possibility of two people that young going into the Games. The young ones were always the hardest.

"Magda! Over here!" Eleanor was waving her down from outside a shop with Rosalie.

She walks over and takes her girlfriend's hand. "Hey beautiful, how's it going?"

"Good! We've only got a bit of time left until the reaping starts, come on!" Eleanor drags her into the shop, Rosalie following after them.

The shop is small, only a counter and a few shelves of merchandise on either side of the room. Most of the merchandise is cheap jewelry, the gems on the necklaces made of plastic. The shop was probably pretty popular with the middle class, as it would make them look nice but wouldn't cost a fortune.

Magda walks over to the counter and spins the small rack that sits there. It's covered in simple necklaces; a single plastic gem dangling from a silver chain. The gems are all different colours, ranging from a blue so pale that it almost appears white to a purple so dark it appears black. The price tag scribbled out in marker at the top of the rack says that they cost three dollars each. A decent enough price.

Rosalie's trying to get Eleanor to try on one of the watches that's on display in the corner of the shop, so Magda figures that she can probably buy the necklace without arousing the suspicion of her girlfriend. She wants the present to be a surprise, a congratulation for making it through the reapings alive.

 _Because she will make it through alive. She will. She has to. She's managed it every year so far. This year won't be anything different._

She remembers the words of the merchants from earlier, the bet that the tributes will be an eighteen-year-old girl and a fourteen-year-old boy. Part of her worries that the merchant was right and that the tributes would be Eleanor and Roeland. That nightmare was rivaled only by the fear that the tributes would be her and Roeland.

Magda hands the money over to the man behind the counter, selecting a necklace with a deep blue gem. She slides it into her pocket before heading back over to her friends.

"See anything you wanna buy?" Rosalie asks.

Magda shakes her head, feeling only slightly guilty for lying. The surprise would be worth the lie though.

They leave the shop and head towards the one next door, some clothing shop judging by the display in the window.

"Hey, isn't that Roeland?" Eleanor asks, pointing across the street.

Magda follows her finger to see two boys talking. One of them was indeed her younger brother, though she didn't recognize the second boy. He wasn't from their village. There weren't very many opportunities that Roeland had to meet kids from outside of the village so Magda's at a loss as to where he might have met this kid.

"You guys go on ahead. I'll catch up to you later."

"Magda, really? We've barely seen you this morning!" Rosalie says.

"I'll just be a minute."

Rosalie sighs but heads into the shop, Eleanor following with a small wave.

Magda makes her way across the street, frowning. It was probably nothing, but it seemed odd to her that Roeland would be talking to someone who wasn't from their village. He was friendly and outgoing, yes, but talking to a stranger on reaping day seemed out of character even for him.

"Hey Roeland, who's your friend?"

"Dunno!" His cheerful reply catches her off guard.

"You… don't know?"

"He didn't tell me his name."

"Oh." Magda turns to the boy. His dark hair is cut short and his brown eyes smile with his mouth. "What's your name?"

"Torin. We're not friends though, I just met him" he replies.

"Well we're friends now!" Roeland says. "I consider everyone I meet my friend!"

"That seems like a very dangerous policy to have."

"How so?"

"Not everyone in the world is good friend material."

"Everyone in our village is!"

"Roe, our village is only fifty people. I'm sure things in the main district are much different," Magda rests a hand on his shoulder. "You two should be heading to the reaping soon."

Torin looks at her, confused. "There's still almost half an hour left before check in starts and it's only fifteen minutes away."

"If you're going with Roeland, you'll need that time. He gets distracted easily."

Roeland gives him a wide beam and he sighs, seemingly resigning himself to being stuck with Roeland for at least the next hour or so. "Fine. Let's get going."

Magda heads back to her friends, trying not to laugh at the thought of poor Torin trying to deal with Roeland. He was a sweet kid, but overbearing. New people often found him intimidating.

"How's Roeland?" Eleanor asks when she returns.

"He's okay. Making new friends."

"So typical Roeland?" Eleanor smiles at her and Magda's heart almost stops. So beautiful. "Too bad you guys weren't born in a larger village or in the main district. He would thrive here."

"Maybe Mom should've brought him with her when she left," she mutters sourly.

Rosalie gives her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. "We should probably get going, I think the owner wants to close up shop."

They leave the shop to discover that most of the other places on the street were closing up as everyone began heading towards the square. The three girls follow the crowd, not used to the main district as they only came a few months a year.

Once they're through the check in lines, Eleanor leaves the other two in the seventeen section as she goes off to the eighteen section. Magda keeps her eyes on her for as long as she can, hoping that the next time she saw her wouldn't be on stage during the reaping.

Kaylin Pokorny takes to the stage, her gown around her in feathery bellows. Her lime green hair is pinned up in an elegant bun, somehow not completely clashing with the sky blue of her dress. Magda hates to say anything positive about the Capitol, but she has to admire Kaylin's fashion sense. She could never pull off something like that. She could barely pull off the simple blue and white dress she was currently wearing.

"Good afternoon District Eleven! How are you all doing today?"

Silence.

"Alright, well, let's just continue, shall we? Girls first? Or boys?"

More silence.

Kaylin seems a bit frustrated, but she's used to this after almost ten years of escorting for District Eleven. "Well, we did boys first last year, so let's start with the girls this year."

She walks over to the girls' bowl, gown trailing along behind her. Her tan hand reaches into the bowl and swirls around a few times before selecting a slip. Magda holds her breath as she walks back to the microphone, hoping and wishing that it wouldn't be someone she knew.

"Magda Hofwegen!"

The air comes out of her in a shaky gasp, hand reaching out to grab Rosalie's arm.

"Magda… Magda, you're gonna be okay," she says.

"I know. I know. I'll be fine, Rose. I'll see you soon, okay?" she says quietly, giving her friend a weak smile.

Rosalie gives her a firm nod, no nerves. Usual Rose. It gives Magda the strength she needs to walk up towards the stage, keeping her nerves to a minimum. She passes the eighteen-year-old section, being careful not to look to the side and search for Eleanor. If she sees her or Roeland or her father right now, she'll lose all the bravery in her. She needs to stay strong long enough to make it to her goodbyes and then get the bravery back for the trip to the train.

 _And then keep that bravery for the next three weeks at least,_ she realizes. _I need to be brave for the next three weeks or I'll go crazy or die. Or both._

The thought causes her to start shaking again as she climbs the steps to the stage. _Will I be fine? People die in the Games. I might die. I probably will die._

She clenches her fists in an attempt to disguise the shaking as she walks over to Kaylin. _I will not die. Not yet anyways._

"Ah, Magda, lovely to meet you! Boys next!"

Magda keeps her eyes fixed to the cameras on the other side of the square as Kaylin walks over to the boys' ball. She can't look for Roe or Alan or Eleanor. Not now. Not yet. She needs to stay strong until she gets inside.

"Merlin Willford!"

Magda glances over at the path between the sections, making sure she doesn't glance over at the fourteen-year-olds. She can't look at Roeland. She can't. She just wants to see what her district partner looks like and that's it.

The boy steps out of the twelve-year-old section and Magda's heart drops to her stomach. He's twelve. He's only twelve. She would have to get to know a twelve-year-old and then watch him die. He looks even younger than twelve though, with a round face and wide, gray eyes. His height adds to the allusion, as he's short and stocky. He quivers as he walks to the stage, staring around at everyone with big teary eyes.

"Ah, Merlin, lovely to meet you too! Lovely, lovely. Now, shake hands you two! District Eleven, your tributes for the 44th Hunger Games: Magda Hofwegen and Merlin Willford!"

All that Magda can think as she shakes Merlin's hand and they're lead into the Justice Building is how Ford the merchant would be making a hell of a lot of money tonight.

* * *

"Magda! Maggie, are you okay?" Alan's the first through the door, immediately wrapping her up in a hug.

"Yeah. Yeah Dad, I'm fine. I'll… I'll be okay." She gives him a weak smile, trying not to shake too hard.

"Oh Maggie, you don't have to pretend to be strong for us, okay? It's just Roeland and I, it's alright to cry."

The offer's tempting, but Magda can't accept. "If I do, then I won't be able to keep it together on the way to the train. I need to stay strong for that long. Besides, I don't want one of your last memories of me to be me breaking down crying."

"Honestly Magda, it would kind of be a relief." Roeland stares at his shoes. "You've barely cried since Mom left. Not when she left, not when you had to start working, never. No one's gonna judge you if you cry after being reaped."

"Roe, I can't. If I cry on camera, then I'm written off completely. It'll be hard enough to get sponsors being from Eleven and all, I don't need to make it worse for myself."

Alan hugs her tighter. "Maggie… Oh Maggie, I can't believe this is happening. You're a tribute. You have to think in terms of life and death now. Honey, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault Dad."

"You were taking out tesserae though, weren't you?"

"Yeah. But that wasn't-"

"I should have provided better for you two. Then you wouldn't have had your name in there so many times."

"Dad, it's not your fault. Maybe I would have been picked anyways. There's no way to know. And there's nothing we can do about it now anyways. What's done is done. I'm going into the Games and there's nothing any of use can do about it now."

"Of course. Just… Come home to us, okay? I need my Maggie."

"And I need my big sister." Roeland looks up at her for the first time since they came in. She's stunned to see that his cheeks are covered in tear tracks and his brown eyes are filled with even more tears. "Please."

Magda pulls her brother into a tight hug. "I'll do my best."

There's a knock at the door. "Time's up."

The next visitor's an unpleasant surprise.

"Magda, I know you might still be angry, but-"

"Out."

Linda stares at her. "Excuse me?"

"I said out. I don't want to talk to you, especially not now."

"But you might die! Do you want this to be how it all ends?"

"You didn't seem to care about how it ended before. Now out."

"Magda, please. I'm your mother."

"No. You gave up the right to call yourself that when you walked out on us. Now you're just the woman who gave birth to me and Roeland. Now get out!"

Linda Zeghers, startled by the usually soft-spoken Magda's change to a yell during the last sentence, finally seems to get the message. "Fine."

Magda's relieved when Eleanor replaces her in the room. "Was that Linda? I heard yelling."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Eleanor nods and takes her hand. "How are you holding up?"

"Okay. I'm scared, sure, but… I need to keep it together. Just until we get on the train. I can break down tonight, but not right now."

"You haven't cried yet?"

"Not one drop."

"Impressive as always."

"I think Roeland finds it more creepy than impressive."

Eleanor frowns, concerned. "How's he holding up? I'm worried about him."

"I don't know. He was crying and he seemed scared, but I don't know beyond that. Can you keep an eye on him while I'm gone?"

"Of course. He's like a brother to me."

"Don't make us creepy and incesty, Eleanor," Magda teases.

Eleanor rolls her eyes and nudges her. "I'm just saying."

"I know, I know." Magda suddenly remembers the necklace that she bought earlier. "Oh, I have something for you!"

"What is it?"

Magda pulls the necklace out of her dress pocket. "I got this for you while we were in the market earlier. A sort of congratulations present for making it through the reapings alive."

Eleanor looks upset. "I only made it through because you were reaped."

Magda freezes. She hadn't thought of it that way. "I know. But I got this before I knew I was gonna be reaped, so..."

"You take it. As a token. Something to remember me by."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." Eleanor pulls her down into a kiss and the two of them stay like that, kissing for what seem like forever, until forever is cut short by a Peacekeeper knocking on the door.

Her last visitor is Rosalie, still putting on a brave face.

"You're going to be fine, Magda. Have they been crying about how you're going to die?"

"Not really. Dad and Roe were worried about it, but not Eleanor."

"Obviously. It's Eleanor, she doesn't freak out over anything."

"I don't understand how you can be so calm."

Rosalie takes a seat on the sofa. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? You're the one who's been reaped away to die, after all."

"So you are scared."

Rosalie sighs. "Only a little bit. I mean, yes I'm scared about the Careers and the Gamemakers. Yes I'm scared about the very real possibility that we might lose you. But I mean… You're Magda. You're smart. You're brave. You're levelheaded and that will be so valuable over the next few weeks. You can make it out."

Magda takes a deep breath. "Thank you. My nerves feel much calmer after hearing that."

"Good. You don't have to worry about this. You're going to win. I know you can."

"I hope so."

"No. You have to know it. Say it. Say you know you're going to win this."

"I know I'm going to win this."

Rosalie grins at her. "There. Now don't you feel ready to go into the Games?"

"Not even remotely."

She snorts. "Okay fine, but that's what the training's for."

 **So this is going up a week later than I was hoping for, but oh well! The reapings are all done now, so it's onto the Games!** **(Okay, so there's the reaping recap next chapter, but that'll be different and have all the tributes there for you to meet).**

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	8. Reaping Recap

_Cicero Genovese, Head Gamemaker_

Cicero messes with his hair, trying to get one of the green highlights to lie flat. There was one strand that just refused to lie flat, no matter how much gel he put in it. The rest of his purple and green hair was lying flat, professional as always, but this single strand would ruin the entire look if he couldn't manage to get it to lie the fuck down.

"Mr. Genovese?" One of the backstage workers is waiting for him. "Mr. Flickerman is almost ready for you, sir."

"Ah, yes, thank you Miss…?" Cicero always made an effort to get to know all of the workers' names. He found that adding a personal touch to his requests made them more willing to work and do a good job.

"Summers. Gemini Summers." Her light green hair has shells and flowers braided into it, making her look like a walking embodiment of her name. Cicero can't help but wonder how she manages to keep her headset from getting caught in them.

"Ah yes, Ms. Summers. Thank you very much. It's just up these stairs?"

She nods and holds the door open for him before leading him upstairs. "As I'm sure you know, this is just a quick interview to give the sponsors some insight into the tributes themselves. Have you watched all of the reapings?"

"I watched the Twelve reaping in the car on the way here."

"Wonderful. So you know about-"

"Five? Yes, I do." He gives her a charming smile, pleased when her cheeks darken slightly. "Have no fear. I know what to do."

"Oh good. I don't know how you manage to do it, I would be terrified to get up there and talk about him."

"He reacted out of fear, as did she. Not everyone has the strength needed to become a victor."

She stares at him in admiration. "Oh wow! That sounds so cool! How do you do it?"

"It's my job. How do you organize the backstage so flawlessly?"

Gemini giggles. "It's not so hard. After all, it's only one small part of the Games. It's not like I'm organizing everything like you are."

"Ah, but if the backstage weren't running smoothly, then there'd be no way I could get out to this interview on time, would there?"

"True. Hold still while I fix your mic please sir."

Cicero remains motionless as she hides the small microphone in his shirt, close enough that it'd still pick up his voice. "Will you be working here the night of the interviews?"

Gemini nods. "It's the busiest night. We have to make sure that each tribute gets on and off the stage smoothly and that no tribute gets more time than another. We need all hands on deck for it to run smoothly."

Cicero tries not to cringe at the word _deck._ Damn kids. "It's also one of the most important nights for the tributes and sponsors. The interviews can make or break the tribute's chance of winning the Games. It's important not to mess it up for them."

"We won't, sir. We've been preparing for this night for months now."

"Of course. I trust that all of you will do your jobs to the best of your abilities, Ms. Summers."

"We will, sir. The stage is just through here."

Gemini leads him through the wings and onto the stage. "Mr. Genovese is here, Mr. Flickerman."

"Ah, wonderful to see you again, Cicero! How was the traffic?" Caesar shakes his hand, white teeth flashing under the bright lights of the stage.

"Slow but we made it. Are the videos edited?" All of the reapings needed to be edited down to just the selection of the tributes in order to make the recap quicker and easier to watch.

"All edited and passed onto VTR. Ms. Summers told you about Five, I presume?"

Cicero nods. "We're prepared to handle it."

"Excellent! Well then, we're about to let in the audience, so if you wouldn't mind taking your spot off stage, Ms. Summers will give you your cue."

"Thank you very much, Caesar." He follows Gemini off stage to the wings and waits as the audience members begin filing in.

Before long, Caesar's introducing him and he's taking his seat on stage.

"Wonderful to have you back with us again tonight, Mr. Genovese! As the audience watching in the studio and at home knows, this is a special, Capitol-only broadcast where you will be sharing your own personal insight into the tributes based on their reaping. Shall we begin?"

The audience bursts into cheers and the first reaping video starts playing, opening in the bright marble streets of District One.

The escort chooses a piece of paper from the top of the bowl, her demeanor both proud and bored. She knows there'll be a volunteer, as there always is, and sees the reaping as a waste of time.

"Spree Morgan!"

"I volunteer!"

The volunteer walks confidently out of the seventeen-year-olds section, smiling and waving at the district as she walks towards the stage. Her black hair falls down her back in waves and when the camera zooms in closer to her face, Cicero can see that she has blue-gray eyes.

She makes it to the stage and the escort shakes her hand. "Wonderful to meet you, my dear! What's your name?"

"Emerald Layne!" she announces proudly.

The video stops and the television screens switch back over to Cicero and Caesar.

"Well, doesn't she just seem lovely?" Caesar asks and the crowd bursts into cheers.

"Yes, she seems quite charming. District One tributes are known for their charm and poise, after all. Emerald seems like a tribute they'll be proud of."

"Tell me Cicero, what strikes you first about our dear Ms. Layne?"

"Her confidence. She's volunteering because she knows she's going to win. That's something that sponsors look for, that air of knowing that you have what it takes."

"Yes, that's so important to sponsors. After all, you don't want to waste your money on someone who can't make it."

"Yes, definitely. I would say that she's certainly one to keep an eye on over the next week."

The video starts up again as the escort reads out the selected boy's name.

"Test Quinn!"

"I volunteer!"

The boy comes out of the sixteen-year-old section, unusual for One. Usually their volunteers were seventeen or eighteen, but Cicero doubts that his age would be a problem. His bright ginger hair is cut neatly, sticking up slightly in the front to keep it out of his dark brown eyes. His face and neck are covered in dark freckles.

The escort shakes his hand as well. "Lovely to meet you, darling! What's your name?"

"Jasper Enderyne!"

Cicero can't help the wide grin that spread across his face as the auditorium bursts into loud screams and cheers. Jasper freaking Enderyne. the younger brother of Tourmaline Enderyne, the victor of the 39th Hunger Games. Cicero can't believe he managed to luck out this much. The amount of attention these Games would get with a victor's younger brother in them would be incredible. If Jasper also won… The Capitol would go nuts.

It takes Caesar a minute to calm the crowd down, laughing as he does it. "Now now, we're as excited as you are, but we really must continue! We've got a lot of tributes to cover tonight!"

When he finally succeeds in quieting the crowd, he turns to Cicero, beaming. "Well, a victor's brother! Isn't that exciting?"

"Yes, it was quite the surprise to all of us."

"I wonder how much he's like his brother."

"Judging by that reaping, I'd say quite a bit. Confident, bold. It seems very much like our dear Tourmaline."

"And what about Jasper stands out to you? Does he have his brother's strength?"

Cicero pauses, considering what to say next. "He doesn't seem to have the same physical strength that Tourmaline has. His build is much smaller. But he may simply be lacking muscle mass. I think it would be dangerous to rule out an Enderyne at this stage in the Games."

The television switches over to District Two, large, grand buildings surrounding the square, marble shining in the sunlight.

The escort plucks a name from the top of the bowl, giving the cameras a wide smile as she reads out the name.

"Shani _Brivio!_ "

"I volunteer!"

A girl walks up to the stage from the seventeen-year-old section, dressed in a pair of exercise capris and a tank-top. She's tall and strong, with tan skin and dark hair pulled into a ponytail. She's stone-faced and confident as she walks up, almost brute-like. A strong contender.

" _Hello,_ my darling! And what might your name be?" the escort asks.

"Ryda del Aquiles."

Murmurs break out amongst the crowd as the screens switch back over to Cicero and Caesar.

"Now Cicero, why does del Aquiles sound familiar to me?" It's a question Caesar knows the answer to, but he has to ask it anyways so that the Capitol citizens know.

"Ah yes, I'm sure the rest of our lovely audience is wondering the same thing. I believe her older sister Romana was in the 40th Games. Tenth place."

"Ah yes, I remember now. Quite an impressive young lady. And Ryda? Do you see the same level of impressiveness in her?"

Cicero considers the question, thinking back to what he remembered about Romana's Games. It had been a few years before he became Head Gamemaker, back when Solitaire Chiarella was still in charge and he was in charge of weather in the arena. Romana had been smart, strong, brave… An overall outstanding tribute. Judging by how Ryda held herself during the reaping, she was confident that she could win. And she was certainly strong.

"I think she does. She's clearly confident. And if you look at her arms, you'll see that she has quite a bit of upper arm strength." VTR pulls up a still image of Ryda as stage as he says that, the image probably on stand-by in case they needed to use it. "That will come in handy in the arena. They'll be climbing quite a bit in there."

"Ah, so she'll be a good sponsor choice by the looks of it?"

"Yes, definitely. If she's anything like her sister, she'll stand a strong chance."

The video starts up again with the escort selecting a name from the top of the bowl.

" _Kemen_ Ola!"

"I volunteer!"

A boy from the eighteen-year-old section walks up to the stage, confident smirk in place. His sandy hair falls into his green-blue eyes, his left cheek marred by a vertical scar. Tough.

"And _hello_ to you too! What might _your_ name be, handsome?"

"Cadell Baines!"

Once again the video is paused and the screens change back to Cicero and Caesar.

"Another volunteer!" Caesar says. "District Two seems as excited for the Games as they usually do!"

"Yes, they always send us tributes that are eager to make their mark on Hunger Games history. Cadell seems like he's eager to continue that fine tradition."

"Now, does anything strike you about him?"

"Of course there's the fact that he's a volunteer," Cicero begins. "Volunteers are always tributes to look out for, as they always have a reason to be here, typically that they think they're going to win. Besides that though, he's scarred. Clearly he has experience fighting before now."

"Ah yes, on his cheek." A still photo of Cadell appears on the screen as Caesar talks. "An ugly thing, scars. But prior fighting experience will be helpful, yes?"

"Most definitely. Unless of course he lost the fight that he gained the scar in. Then that experience will be useless to him."

The video now switches to the murky streets of District Three, the children in the square huddled closer together and dressed in dirtier clothes than those in the first two districts.

The escort shoves his hand down to the very bottom of the girls' bowl, swirling it around a few times before coming up with a slip. He wobbles on his way back to the microphone, obviously not used to his wedged shoes yet.

"Jacy Dahl!"

There's a small pause before the girl emerges from the sixteen-year-old section, visibly trembling, which earns a few snickers from the audience in the studio. She's tall, almost 5'10", with brown skin and dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail.

"Ah, our first non-volunteer! Well, the streak has to end somewhere, doesn't it Cicero?"

"Yes, it does tend to end in Three. Unfortunate, but we can't have everything."

"Now what are your thoughts on Ms. Dahl?"

"She seems weak. She's clearly trembling, obviously scared. Doesn't seem to have a lot of muscle mass either," Cicero says bluntly.

"Not a very impressive young lady, is she?"

"No, I'm afraid not. Now of course, she may make up for this in other skills. As we all know, the Games are about more than just brute strength. They're about survival, out-smarting your opponent and lasting until the very end on your wits alone."

"And that's what makes them so interesting! Would you say that Ms. Dahl is one to watch for?"

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that. But she's an older tribute, and Three has turned out some impressive tributes in recent years. Both mentors this year won in the last fifteen years. She may be able to last a few days."

The reaping film starts back up again with the escort standing at the boys' ball, ruffling the papers around before deciding on one and wobbling back over to the microphone.

"Alastor Holiday!"

The boy comes out of the seventeen-year-old section slowly, though he's not trembling like his district partner had. He's tall and skinny, with pale skin, neat black hair, and golden-brown eyes that get the audience members muttering to each other.

"Well, isn't he a looker?" Caesar says, earning quite a few cheers from the crowd.

"He is rather handsome. Wonderful eyes."

"Yes, I know a few people who would spend quite a bit of money for a colour like that. And what strikes you most about our dear Mr. Holiday? Besides the beautiful eyes, of course."

Cicero laughs. "Well the eyes are certainly the first thing. But after that, it would be how calm he is. You can tell a lot about a tribute by how they react after being reaped. Staying calm says a lot about the type of tribute they'll be."

"And what type of tribute is that?"

"A thoughtful one. One that will be able to analyze the situation in front of them and proceed with caution to succeed."

"Ah, so definitely one to look out for."

"Almost certainly," Cicero says, doing his best not to guarantee anything. Broken promises would not make him popular with sponsors which would make him deeply unpopular with the president.

The video changes to the wide streets of District Four, accompanied by the faint sound of seagulls in the distance.

The escort plucks a slip from the top of the bowl, unfurling it as he walks to the microphone and clears his throat.

"Grace Pyrmont!"

There's a long pause before the girl comes out of the sixteen year old section, dark brown eyes wide with surprise. She's tall and thin, with pale skin and dirty brown hair pulled back in a ponytail.

The video continues after she's walked up to the stage, the camera switching over to the escort as he asks for volunteers. Nobody steps up and the escort clucks his tongue in disappointment.

"Well, what do you think of that, young lady?"

"Better me than anyone else," she says.

The crowd mutters to themselves as the video switches back to the stage.

"Well, she seems like quite the spunky one, doesn't she?"

"Yes, she certainly does," Cicero says, trying not to be awkward. It's only his second year doing these interviews and commenting on the tributes still made him nervous. He didn't want to make any assumptions about the tributes that would end up being false and might get him in trouble.

"And Pyrmont… Sounds awfully familiar."

"Yes, Aaron Pyrmont is the mayor of District Four. From what I've heard, he's a smart and just mayor." He had also heard that he wasn't the most popular mayor that District Four had ever had, but thankfully that wasn't his problem. With any luck, Grace Pyrmont's new status as tribute would improve Aaron Pyrmont's relationship with his district before it got out of hand.

"Now what do you think about Ms. Pyrmont?"

"If you take a look at her build, you'll notice that she's built like a runner. She's probably got a lot of speed and endurance. That will help her in the arena, especially in the first hour after the gong sounds."

"A good sponsor choice then?"

"I would think so. She'll be able to last at least a few days, if not longer, by my estimate."

"Ah, wonderful. Do you see her as victor material?"

"Perhaps. We haven't seen enough of her yet to know. The reapings say a lot about a tribute but they don't say everything."

The District Four reaping starts up again with the escort plucking a name from the side of the males' bowl. He walks back to the microphone, unfurling the paper.

"Darius Greene!"

There's a long pause in which the escort looks increasingly more uncomfortable before a few Peacekeepers push their way into the sixteen-year-old section. They drag out a tall boy with light skin and short brown hair, his light blue eyes wide with shock and horror. He's shoved up the stairs of the stage, tripping on the way up and almost falling flat on his stage.

The audience bursts into laughter, Caesar laughing along with them as he claps Cicero on the shoulder. "Well I think we've found the first early death, eh Cicero?"

Cicero laughs, leaning back in his chair. "Well, he certainly doesn't seem like much now. But he's got muscles. He's strong. He might be more impressive than he looks."

"Well, that seems rather doubtful."

"Maybe now, but there are victors who didn't seem particularly impressive during their reapings who went on to surprise us later in their Games."

"So we shouldn't rule him out yet?"

"Not yet. I doubt he'll make it very far though. It seems like he breaks under pressure, which isn't very promising for the arena."

"No, it certainly isn't."

Cicero swallows hard as the narrow streets of District Five appear on the television screens in the studio. This would be difficult.

The escort shoves her hand deep into the pile of paper slips, spinning them around a few times before coming up with the tribute's name and walking back to the microphone.

"Nathalia Zimmer!"

There's a sudden commotion in the seventeen-year-old section as a girl runs out of it, heading for the public section. The Peacekeepers run after her, the crowd quickly parting for them. She gets a ways into the crowd before they catch up to her and drag her up towards the stage. She fights them the whole way there and has to be restrained by the victor of the 13th Games, Ani Richards, once she's on stage.

The camera zooms in close to her as Ani holds her in place and Cicero gets a better look at her. She's tall and lean, with tan skin and dark brown hair that's cut into a bob. Her bright blue eyes are squinty and a scar cuts through the middle of one of her bushy eyebrows.

"Well, isn't she an exciting one?" Caesar looks surprised, as though this were the first time he was seeing Nathalia's reaping. He was certainly a good actor.

"Yes, well, many tributes do react with fear and we can't fault them for it. Not everyone has the strength needed to become a victor."

"I see. So you don't think Ms. Zimmer can do it?"

"I doubt it. Often the ones who make a run for it end up dying within a few minutes of the gong ringing." Cicero leans back in his chair, trying to seem relaxed. The worst was yet to come. "Of course, I might be wrong. She's scarred. As I mentioned with Cadell, this can sometimes indicate a history of fighting, which may prove promising for a tribute. But that combined with her fleeing doesn't seem particularly promising. But she may surprise us once she arrives in the Capitol."

"Well, she certainly seems full of surprises, doesn't she?" There's a quick spattering of applause from the audience before the reaping film starts up again. Cicero swallows hard. Here it comes.

The escort ruffles through the papers a bit before selecting one and continuing back towards the mic, wrinkling her nose at Nathalia when she returns.

"Festus Allen!"

There's a long pause before the Peacekeepers push their way into the seventeen-year-old section. They approach a boy with black hair, pale skin and dark brown eyes, who's quickly backing away from the stage. As soon as he sees them, he lashes out, clocking the nearest Peacekeeper in the chin. The feed quickly switches over to the escort, who looks stunned, glancing nervously at the Peacekeepers closest to the stage.

Festus is dragged up to the stage, cussing at the Peacekeepers the whole way there. The escort is visibly nervous, flanked by two tributes who were both struggling to get away. Festus calms down slightly as he's forced into place, his face become emotionless as he glances over at the escort.

"I apologize for my outburst," he says before pursing his lips and looking away as the video comes to a halt.

"Well, he's a lively one!" Caesar shakes his head. "Attacking Peacekeepers though... I certainly don't approve of that."

"No, I don't either. It's a shame that he had to do that, he would have been a good sponsor choice. Strong, a fighter. But attacking those who keep our country safe? That's not something we want in a victor, one of the most respected members of society. Insolence like that cannot go unanswered."

"Why do you think he did that, Cicero?" It was the question every news station would be asking tomorrow morning, so it would be better to answer it before they got the chance to speculate.

"I suspect he was afraid. Not everyone has to courage to face death and be honoured for it."

"Yes, fear can transform the best of us."

"But fear is no excuse to assault a Peacekeeper."

"No it is not. And I am sure that Mr. Allen will realize that shortly."

The screen changes to the smog-filled streets of District Six, most of the children in the square looking disheveled, as though their parents didn't bother to remind them that they would be on TV today.

The escort greets the district before walking over to the girls' ball, burying his hand deep in the papers and swirling them around. He pulls out a paper and returns to the microphone.

"Risa Chandler!"

The fourteen-year-olds section parts quickly to let the girl through. She's short, with straight, shoulder-length brown hair and light brown skin. Her hands are clenched into fists as she quickly walks to the stage, her brown eyes glaring at the ground.

"Well, she certainly seems angry!" Caesar says as he turns back to Cicero.

"Yes, it's quite interesting. Most tributes her age are crying and shaking, but she seems more angry than anything else. Definitely something to keep in mind."

"Now, what strikes you most about our dear Ms. Chandler?"

"Certainly her spirit. She's unimpressive in terms of looks: short, scrawny, young. But that anger that she possesses… That will either help or hinder her in the arena. Judging by how in control of it she seems to be, it will most likely help her."

"Is she one to watch out for?"

"I doubt it. She's young and physically unimpressive. I don't see any victor potential in her currently. But with a little help from some sponsors…" He pauses to let the crowd cheer. "She may surprise us yet."

The film picks up again with the escort now at the boys' ball, hand sliding down the side to grab a slip at the bottom of the ball.

"Demokritis Areleous!"

There's a slight pause before the boy emerges from the seventeen-year-olds section. He's tall and muscular, with pale skin and messy brown hair. He's shaking slightly as he walks to the stage, brown eyes wide behind the lenses of his glasses.

"Now, what do you think of this one, Cicero? Does he seem like victor material to you?"

"Perhaps. He's strong, that will be useful in the arena. As I said earlier, the tributes will be climbing quite a bit in the arena, so that upper body strength will help him out a lot." An image of Demokritis appears on the screen as he talks.

"Is he a good sponsor choice?"

"I would say so. He's a strong older tribute, a safe bet. Besides that though, he seems fairly calm under pressure, which bodes well for how he'll act in the arena."

"Yes, he seems quite thoughtful."

Cicero tries not to laugh as the video switches over to District Seven's main square. It was the glasses. They could trick people into thinking you were smarter than you actually were. Makvala had suggested he get some when he took over for Yin Kozart so that people would believe that he actually knew what he was doing. He promptly told her what she could do with her stapler.

The District Seven escort is ruffling through the slips of paper in the girls' bowl, searching for one that he liked before returning to the microphone.

"Aelin Gedeckt!"

There's a slight pause before the sixteen-year-old section parts to let the girl out. She has an average build, thick blonde hair, green eyes and lightly tanned skin. She stumbles quickly to the stage, mouth turned down in a frown.

"Well, she certainly doesn't seem like much, does she?" Caesar says.

"Yes, she does seem rather average," Cicero replies. "Plain looking, scrawny. But perhaps she'll turn out to be smart. You can never tell who is hiding genius."

"Well, I find it hard to believe that Ms. Gedeckt's a genius."

"No, and I doubt that she is. But she may excel at survival stations. As we all know, tributes often die due to exposure or eating poisonous plants. If she can hone her survival skills, she may just be able to luck it out until the end."

"Now tell me honestly Cicero… Would you suggest Ms. Gedeckt as a sponsor choice?"

"At this point in time, no. She doesn't seem to have much in terms of physical strength and there's nothing about her that stands out to me currently. But I would classify her as one to keep in mind throughout the course of the tributes' training. She may yet surprise us."

The video switches back to the District Seven escort picking the male tribute.

"Amias Fairchild!"

There's a long pause where none of the boys move, all glancing around at each in confusion, trying to figure out who the chosen tribute is. Eventually the Peacekeepers push their way into the fifteen-year-old section and drag out a boy who looks a year or two younger. He has long blond hair and gray eyes that are wide with fright, looking back at the boys' sections as he's dragged up on stage. He's wearing a lab coat over his button-up shirt and slacks, and Cicero can't help but wonder what sort of parents let their child wear such a thing to the reapings.

Caesar waits for the crowd's laughter to quiet before he speaks. "Well it seems like we've found ourselves another early death, haven't we, Cicero?"

"Yes, it certainly seems that way. He doesn't have anything working in his favour. No physical strength, no bravery. He had to be dragged on stage!" He looks better fed than a lot of tributes they see, but Cicero chooses not to mention that.

"And what is going on with that attire? It's an interesting choice for the reaping." A still image of Amias on stage comes up as Caesar speaks.

"Yes, I wonder why he chose a lab coat of all things. It's certainly unique."

"I'll definitely remember him, that's for sure. Not many tributes stand out in terms of outfits. Most of them are very plain and boring. No self expression."

Cicero laughs. He imagined it was hard to impress Caesar with your looks when the man wore a glittering blue suit with a shiny red shirt underneath.

The video feed switches over to the main square of District Eight, its citizens more shabbily dressed than one would expect of the textile district. The escort picks a name from the female bowl, their gold hand glittering in the sunlight.

"Calico Stieber!"

The girl comes out of the fifteen-year-old section almost immediately, her dark green eyes smoldering with anger. She's short, maybe around 5'2", with long blonde hair done up in an elaborate braid. She practically stomps her way up to the stage, glaring at the escort the entire time.

"Now Cicero, correct me if I'm wrong, but is Stieber not the name of District Eight's _mayor?_ Unusual for there to be two mayor's children in the Games, no?"

"Unusual, but not extraordinary. They stand the same chance of being reaped as any other fifteen or sixteen year old. It would be like two ginger tributes were reaped from the same district. Surprising, yes, but nothing worth noting beyond that."

"Of course. And what do you think of Ms. Stieber?"

"As I said with Risa earlier, she has a certain anger to her. That anger could make a difference for her in the arena. It could help her make kills, or it could cause her to lose focus."

"Can you tell which way she's leaning?"

"From just her reaping? No. But I suspect that after a week or so in the Capitol, most of our sponsors will be able to tell. Though people do sometimes change in the arena."

"And the first option is the better option, obviously."

"Oh yes, of course. Tributes who lose focus often end up making simple mistakes and lose because of said mistakes."

"Well, I hope for Ms. Stieber's sake that she's the first one."

"And as a Gamemaker, I'll be hoping that she's the second. It makes for a much better show."

The audience bursts into another round of applause as Caesar laughs and the District Eight reaping unpauses, the escort now selecting the male tribute.

"Mark Zephyr!"

The boy who exits the sixteen-year-old section is emotionless, proceeding to the stage calmly without a glance back at the crowd. He's tall and skinny, with light brown hair and gray eyes.

"Well, he seems a bit like a square, doesn't he?" Caesar says.

"Yes, quite plain, not very exciting. But he's calm, which is promising. If that levelheadedness persists, he might have a real shot at winning the Games."

"Is there anything about him that does stand out to you?"

"No, not really. He's tall, I suppose. Height like that can sometimes help tributes overpower smaller tributes."

The crowd murmurs in excitement as the video switches over to the square in District Nine, rainclouds hanging heavy in the sky. Avalon Parker had won the previous year, the first victor from Nine in almost twenty years, and the Capitol was buzzing with excitement to see what they had to offer this year.

"Rhema Hilkes!"

The girl walks out of the sixteen-year-old section, head held high with confidence. She's very short and skinny, probably only around five feet tall. She has shoulder-length wavy red hair, pale freckled skin and big green eyes.

"I volunteer!" The shout comes from a boy shoving his way out of the fifteen-year-old section. He has blond hair and the same big green eyes as Rhema. "I volunteer as tribute!"

The escort stares at him in shock. "As the male tribute?"

"No, for Rhema! I want to take her place!"

The escort clears her throat, clearly uncomfortable. "Well, you can't. You're in the male section, you can't volunteer for the female tribute."

"What? But I-" The Peacekeepers nearby grab him and start forcing him back into his section as the Capitol audience dissolves into laughter. "I want to volunteer though! Rhema!"

Rhema shrugs, emotionless. The escort clears her throat again. "Let's pick our male tribute now, shall we? And if you want to volunteer then, that's fine."

"Well, that was exciting," Caesar says as the cameras turn back over to them. "The young man volunteering like that was certainly a surprise."

"Yes, I've never seen someone from another section volunteer for a tribute before. Most people know the rules."

"He seemed like quite the oblivious young man." This brings about another round of laughter from the audience. "But he's not who we're here to talk about today. Ms. Hilkes… What do you think of her?"

"She's very small and skinny, almost sickly looking. I doubt she'll last long if she's ill." An image of Rhema appears on the screen as Cicero talks.

"Yes, she does look rather sick. That's not very promising. I suppose that we won't be seeing another District Nine female victor this year."

"I doubt it. I'd be surprised if she makes it past the bloodbath. She may have smarts but if she's ill, those smarts won't help her win in fight or survive without medication – if she needs it, of course."

"Well, that's too bad. But perhaps Avalon has a better chance of getting a fellow mentor in the male tribute."

The reaping starts up again with the District Nine escort rustling the slips of paper around, her composure regained.

"Maui Keoni!"

There's a long pause before the boy comes out of the fourteen-year-old section, shaking with sobs as he walks to the stage, almost tripping on his way up the steps. Like his district partner, he's small for his age, but he has brown skin and dark brown hair and eyes.

"Another unimpressive tribute by the looks of it. Wouldn't you agree, Cicero?"

"Yes, he doesn't seem like much, does he? Small for his age, cried on the way up. I doubt that he'll be capable of winning the Games."

"Does anything about him stand out to you?"

"Besides how small he is?" This earns a few chuckles from the Capitol audience. "Not particularly. He doesn't have any obvious strengths, which usually doesn't bode well for the tribute. He may yet surprise us, but I doubt it."

"Ah, well that's too bad for Mr. Keoni, but let's hope that he picks up a few tricks along the way."

"Yes, let's."

The video switches over to District Ten, the cobblestoned square likely the only paved surface in the entire district. Their escort selects a name from the very top of the bowl, not caring who he picks as they weren't likely to win anyways. District Ten hasn't won since the 28th Games, when their male tribute, Cliff Bates, defeated the District One girl in the finale. Even the escort's voice when he calls out the name is devoid of enthusiasm.

"Wildflower Dandelions."

The girl walks out of the thirteen-year-old section, head down, obviously trying to hide her sobs. She's tall and skinny, with blue eyes and pale skin dotted with freckles. Her platinum blonde hair goes down to her waist.

"Two young ones in a row! And both crying too, that's a disappointment," Caesar says.

"Yes, the outer districts often have younger tributes who cry during the reaping. They tend not to make it very far."

"So you don't have high hopes for Ms. Dandelions?"

"No, not particularly," Cicero replies. "But maybe she has smarts or will be able to pick up a few skills during the training sessions. Though I doubt that she'll be able to win on that alone. I doubt she'd be able to win in a fight against someone like Jasper Enderyne."

The crowd bursts into cheers again and Caesar laughs. "Yes, the idea of her winning that fight is quite absurd! So not one to keep an eye on?"

"I doubt it."

The screen switches back to the District Ten escort, even less enthusiastic now that he knows who one of his tributes is. He chooses the name from the top of the bowl again, spending barely a second on the selection.

"Texel Nimari."

There's a long pause before the boy exits the eighteen-year-old section, frowning, hands clenched in fists by his side. He's tall and muscular, with dark brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, and dark skin.

"Well, he seems rather promising, doesn't he?" Caesar comments as the screen changes back over to the two off them.

"Yes, he does." Cicero can't help but feel relief at another eighteen-year-old. All of these middle-aged tributes were beginning to stress him out and he was glad to see another tribute who was older and stood a chance without making him talk his way out of a difficult situation.

"Now, what strikes you first about our dear Mr. Nimari?"

"He's big. You'll notice that he has broad shoulders." An image of Texel on stage comes up as he talks. "That strength will help him out in the arena, not just in terms of helping him win fights. As I've mentioned before, the tributes will want good upper arm strength and a good climbing ability in the arena. He definitely has that arm strength."

"So would you say that he's a good sponsor choice?"

"At this point in the Games, yes. Now of course, that may change, it's only the reapings after all. He may be slow, or not learn a weapon, or completely ignore the survival stations. But he's got the foundation for success."

Unlike the District Ten escort, the District Eleven escort was chipper despite clearly not wanting to be there. She swirls her hand around the bowl a few times before settling on a slip and walking back to the microphone.

"Magda Hofwegen!"

The girl comes out of the seventeen-year-old section, stony-faced for most of the way up to the stage, shaking slightly only as she begins to climb the steps. She has curly dark brown hair that's tied back in a tight ponytail, brown eyes, and dark brown skin.

"Well she seems rather stoic, doesn't she?" Caesar says.

"Yes, she didn't react much to being reaped," Cicero replies. "This could be promising for her if she continues to be so levelheaded. Tributes need to be able to keep a cool head in the arena and not get too emotional, and it seems like Magda will be capable of that."

"Yes, it certainly does. Now, does anything in particular stand out to you about her?"

"Not much besides her level head. She's an older tribute, which is always an advantage, as they tend to be stronger and have seen more Games, but she isn't very striking besides her calm air."

"Well, let's hope that she's able to keep that level head under the pressure of the Games!" Caesar says before the screen flicks back to District Eleven.

The escort walks over to the boys' ball, swirling her hand around the bowl and grabbing a slip from the bottom.

"Merlin Willford!"

The boy comes of the twelve-year-old section, though he looks more like he's ten. He trembles as he walks slowly to the stage, his gray eyes wide and brimming with tears, which earns him a few snickers from the audience. He's short and stocky, with dark skin and dark brown dreadlocks falling to his shoulders.

"Well he seems like another early death, don't you think?"

Cicero sighs, leaning back in his chair a bit. "Yes, it certainly seems that way. He doesn't seem like much now, does he?"

"No, he doesn't. He's small and practically in tears!"

"Yes, unfortunately as much as I would like to say something nice about how much promise he shows, I can't come up with much. He may show some smarts, but those smarts won't be enough to help him win in a fight against another tribute or a mutt."

"Well, that's disappointing to hear."

He shrugs. "Not every tribute can have what it takes to become a victor."

The television changes districts again and the dusty streets of District Twelve replace the open streets of District Eleven. The escort there is new this year and still getting used to things, almost knocking the girl's ball off the stand as they try to select a paper.

"Cassandra Rainthorn!"

The girl walks quickly out of the seventeen-year-old section and up towards the stage, her dirty blonde hair swishing behind her as she walks. She's slightly shorter than average, with an athletic build, green eyes and light skin.

"Well she's awfully pretty, isn't she?" Caesar says, and the crowd applauds.

"Yes, I suppose she is. I'm sure that will make her quite the popular tribute." More cheers.

Caesar laughs. "Yes, it certainly seems that way! Now what about her strengths as a tribute? Does anything catch your eye?"

"She has an athletic build. Being strong and agile will come in handy in the arena, both in fights and in simply moving around."

"Would you say she's one to keep an eye out for?"

"Perhaps. She's got a good foundation, and if she can pick up a few skills during training, she may just stand a chance."

"I'm sure District Twelve would be pleased to hear that." District Twelve hadn't won since the sixth Games with Farah Johnson.

The reaping video starts back up again with the escort at the male ball. They manage not to knock the ball over this time as they pluck a name from the top of the bowl.

"Henrik Sarafian!"

The boy emerges from the seventeen-year-old section, visibly trembling and looking like he's about to cry. He has greasy black hair, gray eyes and olive skin. His nose is crooked in the middle like it's been broken and hasn't quite healed yet.

"Well, he certainly _looks_ like a fighter, but he doesn't act like one."

"No, it's disappointing," Cicero says. "His nose is broken, which implies that he's gotten into fights before, but he doesn't seem to possess any of the fighting spirit that Cadell or Nathalia do."

"Do you think that will change once he gets to the Capitol?" Caesar asks.

"Perhaps. It may just be that he was in shock, though if that's how he reacts to a shock, I can't say that I expect much from him in the arena. Breaking down when attacked typically isn't the way to win in a fight."

"No, it certainly isn't. Do you suppose the training will change how he reacts?"

"Doubtful. The training can improve a tribute's fighting and survival skills, but it cannot change one's instinctive reaction. Think of fight or flight. If you're prone to flight, learning how to fight may help stand your own during a battle, but it won't change your flight reaction. You're still likely to flee when attacked by a bear. And if you're prone to freezing, then learning how to fight won't stop you from being eaten by a bear."

"Ah, I see. And I take it Mr. Sarafian is the freezing type?" Caesar says, tilting his head slightly.

"It certainly seems that way. He's shaking and barely able to get to the stage, which is strongly indicative of a freeze reaction."

"Interesting. Well, that was quite the helpful insight you gave us, Cicero. I wish you luck over the next week as we prepare to head into the 44th Hunger Games."

"Thank you for having me, Caesar. It was a pleasure as always."

"No, the pleasure was all mine," Caesar says with a laugh, leaning over to shake his hand.

"Okay, thanks." Cicero had never been one for exchanging awkward pleasantries. "I look forward to seeing your interviews with the tributes."

"Thank you very much, Cicero." He waves at the cameras. "That's our show! Good night!"

 **Hey guys! Sorry this chapter took so long to post! I was hoping to have it up a couple of weeks ago, but that didn't happen XS Hopefully the length makes up for the delay! I'll be sending out some PM's in the next few days to ask some questions about your tributes and what not, so keep your eyes peeled for that!**

 **Also a couple of chapter questions!**

 **1) Who stood out to you the most and why? Who would you like to see more of and why? Who can you see your tribute allying with (if at all)?**

 **2) Would a sponsor system be something you'd be interested in or no?**

 **Also if you're looking for another amazing partial to submit to, my amazing friend Kate-The-Great-And-Powerful (aka Ryda's submitter) has recently started a partial SYOT about the 39th Games called Luetis that you should definitely go check out!**

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	9. Trains

_Calico Stieber, District Eight female_

The first thing Calico does when she gets on the train is pull the bronze studs out of her ears, carefully slide the metal backings back on, march over to the window and slide it open before hurling the studs into the grass next to the train tracks as they go whizzing out of District Eight. She doesn't spare a second thought as to how angry her mother would be if she were to ever find out that she threw them away. She closes the window and turns back to her district partner, not wanting to have her back to him for very long. You could never trust poor people.

Mark has taken a seat in one of the plush chairs in the car, fiddling slightly with the brass bracelet around his wrist as he watches her.

"What?" she snaps.

He shrugs, glancing down at his shoes. They're dirty and worn, like he's been wearing them for a while. Gross. "Odd that you would toss something so expensive."

She scoffs. "Hardly. Your bracelet probably costs as much," she says, noting the engraving on it. She can't read the writing, but engravements were always pricier than a normal bracelet. Maybe he wasn't as poor as she originally thought. He still smelled like a factory though.

He glances down at the bracelet. "It's my token. It has-"

"I don't care," Calico interrupts him. "It's ugly and I don't care about your life. Got it?"

Mark blinks at her, surprised, before nodding.

The door to their car slides in and two men walk in, the younger one heading straight for the small table of alcohol in the corner. The other one glares at him, taking a seat and pulling a sheet of paper and a pen out of the inside pocket of his jacket.

Mark stares at them in amazement. "You're-"

Bronx Stringer interrupts him. "Yeah, we know who we are. Self awareness and all that bitch. Don't get all starstruck, we're not much."

Calico wrinkles her nose. "You certainly aren't. You smell like dead cow."

The other man snorts and Bronx glares at him.

"Well you smell like someone just a piss in a rosebush," he says to Calico. "Are you trying to smell good?"

"I'm not trying, I _do,_ " she replies. "It comes from actually having some form of class and not being a dirty drug addict."

Bronx shrugs and takes a swig from one of the bottles. "Class won't save you in the arena. You'd do well to learn that fast."

"Better than having withdrawal the entire time," she says, giving him one of her faux sweet smiles.

He glares at her and gestures at Mark. "Come on, let's talk in the next car."

Mark follows after him eagerly, leaving Calico along in the room with Ritter Pyle.

She instantly grabs one of the knives off of the dining table that's been set up to the side of the seating area. "Don't come near me."

The victor of the 35th Games snorts again and starts writing on the paper. Mute since birth, he mainly communicated through sign language, but wrote what he wanted to say if the other person didn't know how to sign. He slides the paper across the table to her.

 _I have no reason to do that. Put the knife down._

She glares at him. "You're more insane than I thought if you think I'm going to leave myself defenseless."

Ritter Pyle had made a name for himself after his particularly violent Games and brutal nature. No one had seen it coming, as he had seemed fairly cheerful and lighthearted during the interviews, but you can never tell who the freaks are.

He shrugs and gestures at the chair across from him. Calico hesitates, weighing her options. On one hand, she could sit down and get some halfway decent advice, but be left alone in a room with a man who shot an arrow through the Ten boy's eye and left him there to die while he hunted down the final tribute. Maybe he'd do the same thing to Calico but stab her eye with a butter knife instead. Change things up a little bit.

But on the other hand, she could run to the next room where Bronx and Mark were and beg Mark to switch mentors with her. The thought of begging _Mark_ in front of _Bronx Stringer_ wasn't one that was particularly appealing to her. And then she'd have a drug addict for a mentor. Why couldn't she have just gotten Woof Perry or Carissa Kempton instead? Why did she have to choose between the two worst District Eight victors?

There was a third option, to just straight up refuse any form of help, but she dreaded what Ritter's reaction would be. The best case scenario would be him just shrugging and leaving (probably to get drunk like his deadbeat father always was: everyone knows why his brother was voted into the Quarter Quell). The worst case scenario would be him stabbing her through the eye with the very butterknife she clutched in her hand right now. Maybe even forcing her own hand to do it.

She ends up taking the seat, glaring at him as she settles down into the plush velvet and cotton. "So you think you can give me advice?"

Ritter shrugs and starts writing again. He takes a long time, glancing up at her occasionally as though she might get bored and leave. She almost does. When he finally slides the paper back over to her, his handwriting's atrocious, as though he rarely writes and was barely taught how to.

 _I got Bronx out of the arena, didn't I?_ She snorts and keeps reading. _What skills do you already have?_

"Ugh, like I'd know how to use a weapon already. We're not all disgusting street rats."

He glares at her and scribbles; _Just get to your fucking point._

"Ugh. I suppose I'm good at being quiet, I could probably sneak up on someone." One has to learn how to be quiet when one's parents are extremely powerful and always doing important work at home.

 _Really, I never would have guessed that you could keep your mouth shut for longer than a minute._

Calico scowls and crosses her arms. "I've been quiet while you take a decade to write a sentence."

Ritter glares at her again. _Anything else?_

She shrugs. "I suppose I would be able to use a knife well enough to get somebody off of me. I mean, you just have to stab their stomach or side."

He nods. _Focus on knives during training, especially daggers. If you can sneak up on someone and stab them in the back, you'll be able to get a kill without injury. The stealthier you are, the less risk there is._ It feels like an eternity before he's done writing.

"Fine, any other wonderful advice? Or should I just go on a murderous rampage like you did?"

There's a slight pause where he doesn't react, doesn't glare at her or the table, or frown, or anything. Freak. Then he keeps writing.

 _Make sure you focus on survival stations. You're rich and well-fed, most of your opponents won't be. You have more to learn about surviving than they do._

"Fine, I'll take a look at berries or whatever. Anything else?"

 _Weaknesses?_

"No."

He gives her a small smirk. _We'll see._

 _Jacy Dahl, District Three female_

Jacy collapses into a chair as soon as they get on the train, not even caring that it's the softest thing she's ever felt. _Mom. Dad. Edgar. Erie. Arco. Verena. Dayton. Leavitt. Hendy. Corliss. Russell. Seq. Ann. Chas. I'm never going to see any of them ever again, I just know it. I won't._

Alastor sits down in the chair beside her, his eyes still red and puffy from crying. He seems at a loss for what to say, staring at the ground with wide golden-brown eyes.

Ashok has gone off to get their mentors, so Jacy figures she might as well take advantage of the opportunity and find out a little bit more about her district partner.

"So, uh… Alastor." What now? What do you say to someone in a situation like this? I hope your death's reasonably painless because I'm really going to need you to die if I'm ever going to see my friends and family again?

Alastor runs his hands through his hair. "Sorry. Sorry, sorry, I'm not usually like this."

"No no, it's fine!" Jacy says quickly. "You've just been essentially sentenced to death, don't apologize for being upset!"

Alastor nods slowly. "Right. Yeah, yeah, I'll try. You can call me Ace, by the way."

"Ace?"

"Yeah. It's my middle name, but everyone calls me that instead of Alastor."

"Oh, okay. Sounds good."

Ace glances down at his hands where he's nervously picking at his nails. "So uh, what-"

Jacy can't keep her curiosity back any longer and blurts out, "So what's with the hickeys?"

He looks up in surprise. "Huh?"

She points to her neck. "The hickeys. Did the blonde kid give them to you?"

"Who, Blaise?" He's staring at her like he doesn't quite understand what she's saying.

"The girl in the Justice Building. She was cute."

"They." Ace's voice is firm.

"Oh, sorry. They were cute. Partner?"

Ace starts to chuckle but doesn't manage much of one before stopping. "No. I'm their best friend. That'd just be weird."

Jacy shrugs. "Whatever you say, Hickey Boy."

He stares at her in astonishment. "What did you just call me?"

"Hickey Boy."

He groans. "No, please don't tell me that's gonna stick!"

"Oh, you bet it will, Hickey Boy."

Ace buries his face in his hands, groaning, but Jacy can see a smile forming on his lips. Good.

The door to the car slides open and this year's mentors walk in: Giovanni Picozzi, victor of the 36th Games, and Howard Jeff, victor of the 31st Games.

"You're Alastor and Jacy then?" Gio asks.

Ace nods. "Call me Ace, please."

"Call him Hickey Boy," Jacy says.

Ace groans again as Gio looks confused and Howard sighs. "You get that one."

He shrugs. "Fine with me. Come on, Hickey Boy."

"No wait, I meant-" He sighs again. "Never mind."

Ace gets up and follows Gio to the next car. Gio bumps into a chair on his way out and mutters under his breath. "Dammit Dream!"

Howard takes a seat in the chair across from Jacy. "How are you holding up?"

She looks down at her lap, frowning. "Not great. I'm not crying anymore, but…"

"You need to keep your mind off of them."

Jacy nods. "If I don't think about them, if I just focus on the present or the future – however terrifying it may be – I'll be okay. I'll manage. I just have to not look back."

"Alright, I won't ask about it again. Have you thought at all about strategy or allies?"

She shakes her head. "I'll probably want allies though, right? They're useful?"

Howard pauses, carefully considering his next words. "They can be. You have to be careful though. You need to be sure that you can trust them and that you haven't picked someone that's going to betray you. And you'll lose them. No matter what happens, you will lose them and it might be in any number of horrible ways."

Of course. His Games were the one with Titus, the boy from Six who resorted to cannibalism. Howard had lost his district partner to him. "I'm sorry."

"It won't happen again. I'm sure you won't have to deal with something like that. But you need to be prepared to lose your allies. Do you think you can do that? Could you ally with Ace and watch him die?"

It's a difficult question to answer. She doesn't know Ace very well, but he's a good person. The thought of him dying, of watching him die… She doesn't like it. But she also hates the thought of never seeing her friends and family again, of Dayton and Verena watching her die. And one or both of them will have to die. "Yes. I would hate it, but if I needed to, I could."

"Could you kill him?"

This one's even harder, but she knows what her answer has to be. "If we were in the final two."

Howard gives her a small smile. "Okay, fair. And you haven't thought about strategy yet, you said?"

Jacy shakes her head.

"Alright. Do you have any strengths that you think will help you out? Any weaknesses that you'll need to work on?"

"I have a lot of endurance, so I can keep moving in the arena, especially in the first few hours after the bloodbath. I'm not very strong though, and I won't do well in an arena with a lot of water since I can't swim."

"Alright, well there's not much that we can do about those last two. Do you know any survival skills?"

She shakes her head again.

"Okay, then you'll want to spend some time at the survival stations. If you don't want to kill unless you have to, you'll want to make it to the end by laying low and not dying of exposure. See if you can pick up a weapon or two though. You can't win the Games without spilling some blood."

 _Maui Keoni, District Nine male_

It's been nearly twenty minutes since he last saw his family and Enej and Maui's still sobbing. He's curled up in one of the soft chairs on the train, clutching Bucky tightly. His district partner's sitting awkwardly in the chair next to him, unsure of what to do.

He can faintly make out the sound of a door sliding open and footsteps rapidly coming closer, followed by a soft, distant voice. "Rhema, do you mind getting a glass of water please?"

There's more faint footsteps and a woman kneels down in front of his chair. Avalon. "Maui, yes?"

He nods.

"Alright Maui, I'm going to need you to breathe with me, okay?"

He nods and struggles to take deep breaths with her, gasping and choking on air. Like Enej, she makes breathing look so easy, like it's the simplest thing to do. She just takes in a breath of air, no problem. But Maui can't do that. He hiccups and gets blocked, unable to get the air down his throat before it's spluttering out again.

It takes a while, but eventually his breathing evens out: no more gasps and sobs, no more getting blocked and choking. Avalon holds out a glass of water to him and he takes it gratefully, unable to form words to thank her.

"Drink that, it'll help." She pauses to let him gulp down the water and catch his breath as Rhema takes her seat again.

Once Maui's calm again, Avalon sits down across from the district partners. "So as you know, I'm the only living District Nine victor, which means that I'll be your sole mentor. It's up to the two of you to decide whether you'd like to be mentored together or separately."

Maui doesn't get a chance to think it over before Rhema speaks up. "Separately."

When Maui looks over at her, she keeps talking, looking bashful. "Sorry, I'd just rather go in on my own."

Maui nods, staring down at his glass of water. "It's fine. I get it."

"Alright. Which one of you would like to go first then?" Avalon asks.

"I will," Rhema says.

"Will you be okay on your own?" Avalon asks Maui.

He nods and the two girls proceed to the next train car, leaving Maui alone with his thoughts. He doesn't want to think though, since every thought ends up circling back around to Enej and his family and how he's never, ever going to see them again.

Instead he gets up and walks over to the window of the car, watching the fields of grains whiz by. Oats, barley, wheat, rye. He always forgets just how much District Nine grows. The fields stretch out to the horizon, painting everything gold, broken only by the occasional windmill. Beautiful.

Avalon and Rhema come back in a few minutes later, Rhema making a beeline for the bookshelves in the corner of the car.

"Maui?" Avalon says.

He follows her into the next car, one that's almost identical to the one that they were just in, but with a larger dining table. Maybe it was meant for dinners and the last car was for breakfasts?

The two of them take a seat in the plush chairs next to the window.

"I noticed you were looking at the view," Avalon says, with a small smile. "Does it help you relax?"

Maui shifts awkwardly. "Somewhat. I just… I have to distract myself. Not think about- about home." Their voice cracks on the last part.

She gives them a sympathetic smile. "Of course. Did you think about the Games at all?"

They shake their head. "Not really. It's scary."

"I know it is. But I'm going to help you get through it, okay?" They nod. "Okay. Let's think strategy. Do you want allies?"

"I'm… I'm not sure. They could help me, I guess, and they can keep watch at night, but… I don't think I could kill an ally." Their voice starts shaking again. "I don't think I could kill anyone."

Avalon reaches over and gives their hand a quick squeeze. "I know. It's scary to think about. But it'll be alright. If you lay low, you can get out of this with minimal kills, okay?"

"But I won't be getting out of this. I'm going to die."

"You're not going to die, Maui. I'm going to help you."

"You can only save one of us though," Maui says, chewing on their lip. "Why not focus on Rhema and save her?"

"Because I want to help _both_ of you. If I focus on Rhema and she dies in the bloodbath but you don't, then where would we be? You would have no strategy for the Games and I would end up losing both of you."

"O-Oh… Right…" They can't help but feel like Avalon's wasting her time though.

"Now what do you want to focus on in training?"

"Survival skills. I don't… I don't want to kill."

"Of course. Do you know anything about survival already?"

They shake their head.

"That's okay. Spend a bit of time at each station, pick up the skills, and then you'll be just fine. You're going to get through this, okay?"

Maui nods, but it's a hollow action. They appreciate Avalon's support, but can't help but feel as though her faith is misplaced.

 _Cadell Baines, District Two male_

Cadell sits in front of the TV with Ryda, watching as the screen fades to black after the end of the reaping recap. Unlike the Capitol, where they heard opinions on the tributes from the Head Gamemaker, the tributes only saw the reapings themselves. The District Two tributes had each written up a list of all of the tributes, as well as their reaction to them and whether or not they want them as an ally, having already agreed that they would be allying together. Cadell reads his over before turning to Ryda.

 _District One_

 _Emerald Layne, 17 – strong, potential ally_

 _Jasper Enderyne, 16 – probably strong, potential ally_

 _District Three_

 _Jacy Dahl, 16 – weak, definitely not_

 _Alastor Holiday, 17 – could go either way, no_

 _District Four_

 _Grace Pyrmont, 16 – might be strong, no_

 _Darius Greene, 16 – definitely weak, absolutely not_

 _District Five_

 _Nathalia Zimmer, 17 – probably strong, no_

 _Festus Allen, 17 – strong, definitely not_

 _District Six_

 _Risa Chandler, 14 – weak, no way_

 _Demokritis Areleous, 17 – strong, maybe_

 _District Seven_

 _Aelin Gedeckt, 16 – could go either way, no_

 _Amias Fairchild, 15 – weak, no_

 _District Eight_

 _Calico Stieber, 15 – might be strong but probably not, no_

 _Mark Zephyr, 16 – might be strong, no_

 _District Nine_

 _Rhema Hilkes, 16 – might be strong, but probably not smart, no_

 _Maui Keoni, 14 – weak, definite no_

 _District Ten_

 _Wildflower Dandelions, 13 – is that seriously her name?! weak, definitely not an ally_

 _Texel Nimari, 18 – definitely strong, fuck, preferably not but better than D4 boy_

 _District Eleven_

 _Magda Hofwegen, 17 – strong, no_

 _Merlin Willford, 12 – weak, no_

 _District Twelve_

 _Cassandra Rainthorn, 17 – strong, no_

 _Henrik Sarafian, 17 – could go either way but probably weak, no_

Ryda's twisting her hair around her finger. "Let's start with the obvious ones. One and Four?"

"Yes for One, no for Four."

She frowns. "Are you sure about Four?"

He gives her a look of disbelief. "Really? You think the guy that had to be dragged on stage might be a good ally?"

She sighs, lowering her hand to grip the notebook in her lap. "We could at least try. Maybe he's been trained. And the girl looked promising."

"She was reaped."

"So? Not every victor's a volunteer. Besides, we need a large alliance. There's no harm in asking."

"Maybe for her, but there's no way I'm allying with her district partner."

"There's strength in numbers. We can't win the Games with a pack of only four people."

He runs a hand through his hair, sighing. "Fine, but only if he's trained. I don't care if he's got muscles from dragging boats around or whatever, he seems like an instant bloodbath."

Ryda scribbles something down in her notes. "Alright, who's next? Did anyone stand out to you?"

"The boy from Ten's strong. He'd be a good place to start if Four falls through and if not, we'll want to take him out as soon as possible."

"Agreed. What about Five?" she asks, writing down a note beside Texel's name.

"Definitely not with the boy. I don't care how strong he is, he's trouble. He's not going to be very popular with the Capitol after that reaping, and we need sponsors to get through the Games."

"And the girl?"

"Maybe. I'd be willing to talk with her if she seems to have any skills with weapons. But she may end up being useless, she did bolt after all."

Ryda keeps scribbling away in her notebook, presumably marking down who to talk to and when. Was she planning on practicing at all or just talking to the people they were meant to be killing in a week? "How about the Six boy?"

"Maybe. He seems strong, so if he's skilled with weapons, he might be worth a shot."

"What about other skills? Should we pull in anyone who's good at survival stations?"

"How large an alliance are you expecting to have, exactly?" Cadell asks, slightly frustrated.

"About seven or eight people. We'll want a backup plan for if Four falls through."

"Fine, we'll keep an eye out for anyone who seems to be strong or have useful skills. Anything else?"

Ryda frowns, scanning her list. "I don't think so… There's a few that it might be good to keep an eye on, like the two from Twelve or the boy from Three or girl from Eleven, but most of them seem… Average. No one that I'm too worried about taking down."

"Okay. Let's talk to One and Four at the chariots and then go from there."

"Sounds like a plan."

 **Hey guys! So it sounds like overall people had mixed opinions on the sponsor system ranging from "Fuck yeah I love sponsor systems!" to "Fuck no, sponsor systems suck," averaging out to a reaction that was mainly "do whatever you want, I'm cool either way" so I'm going to keep thinking about it and get back to you in a few chapters.**

 **Coming soon will be a breakdown of how I'll be deciding the bloodbaths, as I only received one tribute whose submitter wanted them to be a bloodbath. I'll be posting it on my profile sometime in the next couple of days, so keep an eye out for that! The main thing that I would suggest is reviewing, as tributes whose submitters I _know_ are reading are likely to make it further/be written with more. Even if it's just a "Great chapter!" followed by the answer to the chapter question (if there is one) it's still appreciated and let's me know that you're still reading! **

**Speaking of CQ's, here's this chapter's: Which district partner (Mark, Ace, Rhema, Ryda) stood out to you the most and why?**

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	10. Chariots

_Magda Hofwegen, District Eleven female tribute_

Seraphina curses as one of her long pink nails snags in Magda's hair. "How in Panem do you ever do your hair? It's so thick!"

Magda rolls her eyes before wincing as Iosephus rips another chunk of hair out of her legs. "I don't have three inch nails. It's easier when you don't have claws."

"They are not _claws,_ they're the latest from Constantia. She's the biggest name in nails. Not that _you_ would know that," she sneers.

Of course not. She had more important things to worry about than her nails. Besides, long nails were completely impractical for shredding sugar beet. She decides to ignore what the Capitolite must have meant as a jab.

"I like my hair," she says instead. "Thick doesn't mean bad."

Seraphina snorts, twisting her hair slightly as she pulls it back. "Never said it was."

"Oh lay off her Seraphina, she's got spirit," Mami says as she squirts some cream onto a sponge. "Most tributes just come in here and quake while we make them look human."

 _You're one to talk,_ Magda thinks. The woman had deep purple skin and eyes of such a pale blue that they had to be contacts. She could barely even tell where the iris ended.

Mami sets about rubbing the cream onto her face with the sponge. Magda winces as she rubs it onto her cheeks and near her eyes, but otherwise the experience isn't a bad one.

Or at least not as bad as the one that seems to be coming.

"Whoa whoa whoa, where do you think you're putting that wax?!" she snaps at Iosephus.

He rolls his eyes, the same bright green that an apple would be. "All hair is removed. We told you this already."

"But no one's going to see that!" She pauses, horrified, as she remembers what the District Twelve tributes had been made to wear in past years. Coal dust. _Just_ coal dust. "Wait, are they?!"

"Of course not, don't be stupid," Seraphina says as she weaves shiny white ribbons through her hair. "Quintina has the most beautiful outfit ready for you. But we must remove all unsightly hair from your body."

"Eleanor never minded it," Magda mutters.

"Close your eyes," Mami orders, a tray of eyeshadows in different shades of purple in her hand.

She does as she says, wincing as she rubs the powder around her eyelid and crying out as more of her hair is ripped out. Seraphina scoffs. "It's just wax, darling. No need for theatrics."

Mami finishes up with the eyeshadow and Magda starts to open her eyes before closing them again with a sharp cry as Iosephus rips out more of her hair. She doesn't get the chance to open them again before something wet is being put on her eyes by Mami. "Sit still," she chides. "You'll smear the eyeliner."

Easier said than done with all the burning going on below her waist. But Mami's been doing this for years and a minute later, Magda's opening her eyes as the woman unscrews a tube of reddish-purple lipstick.

"We're really hammering home the purple look, huh?"

"No talking," is all Mami says as she begins to rub the colour onto Magda's lips. It feels sticky, but not unpleasant. She could deal with this. Especially since Iosephus seems to be done peeling the outer layer of skin off her body.

Seraphina pulls her hair back into a ponytail, carefully snipping off the ends of the ribbons. "You're looking so much better already," she says.

Magda tries not to be offended and wonders instead if Rosalie and Eleanor would recognize her with makeup on. She had never worn makeup back in Eleven – you need money to wear makeup, and her family just had enough money to keep from starving – and she wondered if she was still recognizable with it on. If she still looked like the Magda that told them ghost stories on the way home from work when they had to work late and they could only see a foot in front of them and she finally got to see Rosalie scared.

Or maybe she's already unrecognizable. She certainly won't look like that Magda when she returns home.

Mami brushes some blush over the apples of her cheeks and takes a step back to admire her handiwork. "Much better."

Seraphina finishes securing her hair in a ponytail. "I'll go get Quintina."

The other two members of her prep team leave with her and Magda is left alone. She quickly grabs the soft white robe that's been left for her on the table and wraps it around herself, tying the belt tightly so that it wouldn't fall open. She then walks over to the mirror in the corner of the room to see what her prep team has done.

Her dark brown hair has been pulled back in a tight ponytail, secured by an elastic with silky reddish-purple fabric attached to it, white ribbons woven throughout her curls, starting at her hairline and continuing back through the ponytail. The skin on her face is smooth and pore-less, her eyebrows dark and penciled in. Her eyes are framed by white eyeliner, going up just slightly near the corner of her eye and following the line of her purple eyeshadow. She was expecting her eyes and mouth to look like she had just been in a fight, but Mami's good at what she does. She looks… nice. More done up than usual, but nice.

"Impressive, is it not?" A gravelly voice comes from the doorway and Magda spins around, clutching the belt of her robe tightly. A woman stands there, her indigo hair pulled up in a high ponytail and teased so that it went everywhere, her eyes silver with slitted pupils like a cat. Her arms are crossed and hidden beneath the billowing sleeves of the midnight blue robe she wears.

"You're Quintina?"

The woman nods. "You must be Magda. Did the prep team give you the rundown?"

She shakes her head and Quintina nods. "Very well. We'll start there."

She walks over to the clothing racks in the corner of the room where a single garment bag hangs. "The outfits for this year were inspired by the magnificent _Allium cepa._ Specifically the red variety."

"I'm sorry?"

"You do not know the botanical term?"

"No…?"

Quintina sighs, unzipping the garment bag. "The red onion."

"You're dressing me like a red onion?!"

"Yes. Is there something wrong with that?"

"Of all the vegetables, why a _red onion?_ "

"Red onions are lovely vegetables, magnificent colours. Absolutely beautiful. You will look wonderful."

Magda sighs. "What've you got for me?"

Quintina opens up the garment bag and pulls out the dress inside. It's short, with halter straps and the white fabric of the dress just barely visible beneath the reddish-purple ruffles. _It could be worse,_ she thinks. _Though it could also be a whole lot better._

Quintina helps her into the dress along with the knee-high brown boots that she brought with her. The dress is tighter than the overalls that she usually wore in Eleven, so tight that she can barely fit a finger between the skirt and her leg. She doesn't mind the heels on the boots as much, though she does stumble quite a bit while walking in them. The added height makes her feel powerful, like she could take on the world.

She follows Quintina out to the chariots, her stomach churning at the thought of seeing all of the other tributes for the first time. The reapings had been… intense. The Careers all seemed powerful, like they could reach into her chest and rip her heart out if they wanted to. The two from Five had stolen the show and had both seemed intimidating and dangerous, like the sort of people who lived their life on the edge of a knife. The boy from Ten was scary as well, tall and strong. Getting home to her father and Roeland seemed further and further away.

She seems to be one of the last tributes to get down to the chariots, most of the others standing around near their chariot with their district partner. Merlin's sitting on the edge of their chariot, his dreadlocks pulled back in a similar hairstyle to her own, but wearing a significantly less tight tunic. She also notes that his boots only come up to his ankle and lack the heel that hers have.

As she gets closer to their chariot, she notices that the girl from Ten keeps stealing glances back at Merlin. She's another one of the young ones, only thirteen years old. Her long hair's been done up in a couple of loopy braids and she's wearing overalls and a Stetson. She gives a small squeak when she notices Magda approaching the chariot and quickly turns around to face front. Her district partner's wearing similar clothes to her - though his overalls are pants instead of shorts - and gives her a concerned look. Maybe he's not as scary as Magda had first thought.

"Hey Merlin, how's it going?"

Her district partner shrugs. "Okay. A little nervous."

He casts a nervous glance at the boy from Twelve who's just arriving. Magda can understand why he might be scared of him: he's older than Merlin – seventeen – and has a crooked nose, like it's been broken during a fight. But at the same time…

He's scrawny. The miner outfit they have him dressed up in only seems to make that even more apparent, rather than make him seem bulkier. Instead of looking like a miner, he looks like a kid in his father's clothes.

It makes her think of when Roe was little and stole their father's overalls to wear in the evenings. Alan used to laugh and pick him up on his shoulders, telling him that before long, he'd be coming out and working in the fields with him. Magda would tug on their father's shirt and demand to be picked up as well, and he would do his best to carry both children at once. The memory causes her heart to twist and she has to look away.

"Just focus on tonight for now. The crowd will love you, just smile and wave."

He nods. "This isn't the scary part."

Magda gets that. Having to smile and wave for a few minutes doesn't seem so bad in comparison to a fight to the death. It must be even worse for Merlin as he knows that he doesn't stand a chance.

Kaylin walks over to them, lifting her sparkly black gown just slightly off the ground. Today her lime green hair's loose, with a crown of shells resting atop her head. "Come on now you two, let's get up on the chariot. It's almost time to go."

Magda climbs up onto the chariot, wincing as her dress rides up. How she managed not to flash the District Twelve tributes, she has no idea. _Merlin's lucky that he doesn't have to worry about things like that._

In front of them, the girl from Ten – her name had something to do with flowers? - is gripping the bar of the chariot tightly as her district partner glances back at them. His eyes are the same chocolate brown as Roe's, and Magda feels her heart tighten all over again.

The anthem blares out of the speakers near them as the District One chariot rolls out of the gate, the tributes smiling and waving at the crowd. Magda grips the bar in front of her to keep from toppling over as the horses move forward.

 _This is it._

 _Cicero Genovese, Head Gamemaker_

Cicero leans over the shoulder of Chevalier Pictor. He usually worked in the weapons department, but had been moved onto communications for the chariots. "First chariot's moving out?"

"Yep! District One's looking beautiful as always!" Cicero tries not to wince at Chevalier's cheerful voice. He was cheerful about _everything_ and it didn't even seem like an act. He was just always happy and loving and-

"Gah!"

Ugh. That.

"Sorry, sorry!" Chevalier rummages through his desk. "I've got some baby food in here somewhere…"

Cicero sighs. Chevalier was a hard worker, but he had the annoying habit of bringing his son, Felix, to work with him. A habit that he shared with the last Head Gamemaker, Yin Kozart. Luckily Chevalier didn't expect him to look after the little brat. He didn't bring him to work every day, and when he did, he was usually pretty good about keeping the kid quiet and not disturbing the rest of the Gamemakers.

"I'll leave you to it then. Make sure the chariots stay on track."

"Will do, Mr. Genovese!"

He heads over to one of the nearby screens to watch the chariots roll up to the President's Mansion. He hates to admit it, but Calanthe's team did a good job.

The District One tributes are dressed in a shimmering silver fabric that flows out in a small cape and is decorated with small diamonds. Emerald's dark hair is pulled up in a bun and she wears a headband with a few larger diamonds on them. She's waving at the crowd and smiling prettily, an act that's going over wildly in the Capitol, the crowd cheering and shouting her name. Jasper has his hair spiked up with a glittery gel, making it sparkle under the lights. He waves slightly and all of his attention is focused on the Capitol, not glancing once at his district partner since they entered the street. The crowd goes wild over him of course, though that's only to be expected for the younger brother of Tourmaline Enderyne.

The District Two tributes are dressed up like gladiators, complete with gold armor and golden knee-high sandals. Ryda lucked out and has been kept fully clothed, while Cadell's shirtless with one arm covered in armor. Ryda has her hair in a braid with a few curls sticking out, oddly glamorous considering the rest of her outfit. She waves at the crowd, not giving them even the slightest smile. It doesn't seem to be damaging her popularity though, as she still receives loud cheers. Cadell, on the other hand, gives the crowd a wide smile and waves. The action gets him slightly more cheers, though both tributes go over well with the Capitol.

The District Three tributes are dressed in sleek, dark blue one-pieces, trails of lights flickering down the bodice. Jacy has her hair pulled back from her face with a small clip that looks like a computer chip. She's smiling slightly at the crowd, her nerves obvious as she waves. The nerves seem to be putting the Capitolites off a bit, as they don't cheer as loudly for her. Alastor's much more open than she is, smiling and waving eagerly at the crowd. He seems extremely popular, as shouts of his name are audible over the loud yelling for the more popular first two districts.

District Four's up next, the tributes dressed up like the ocean. Grace wears a long dress with a wave pattern printed on it, the skirt splitting off into different sections that flutter behind her as they go. It also has a high collar made out of small shells that goes up her neck. Her hair's been let loose around her shoulders. She gives the crowds a small smile as they roll up towards the City Center, waving only slightly. It doesn't go over as well with the crowds as Cicero's sure she would like. Darius wears a tunic with a similar pattern on it, the lower section also split up and fluttering behind him, though his collar of shells isn't as high up his neck as Grace's. His brown hair's been gelled to make it look effortlessly messy. He's a lot more charming than his district partner, winking and waving at the crowd. It definitely buys him back some of the favour he lost after his disastrous reaping.

District Five follows after them and Cicero feels a knot of nerves the size of a peach pit form in his belly. He has no idea what to expect from these two.

It seems that he had nothing to worry about, as both tributes seems significantly calmer than they did at the reaping. They both stare straight ahead, barely acknowledging the crowd. Nathalia looks strong and powerful, which is getting her a strong reaction from the crowd. She looks far more like victor material than the girl who ran away when her name was called. Festus is stoic, not giving a single reaction to the crowd. That combined with the Peacekeepers' assault during the reaping is making him incredibly unpopular among the sponsors, which makes Cicero's job easier. Both of them wear dark gray tunics which occasionally flash with purple bolts of lightning. Clever of the stylist to incorporate their stormy personalities into their outfits.

District Six comes down the street after them, wearing outfits similar to District Two's suits of armor. But instead of being solid metal, the outfits are designed to look like gears fitting together. Demokritis' stylist has also made the choice to have him go shirtless, presumably to play up the strength factor. The crowd is loving it though, especially when coupled with his friendly smile and waves. Risa's a lot more subdued, giving the crowd a calm wave and no smile. She's not attracting the same amount of attention as her district partner is, though that's typical for fourteen-year-old and seventeen-year-old partners.

The District Seven tributes come up behind them, dressed up as trees, which seems to be about the only idea that the District Seven stylist can come up with. Can't even switch things up and make them lumberjacks. He wonders why Calanthe doesn't just fire that guy. Aelin's charming and has a real stage presence, as though being in front of crowds of people was something that she's done before. The crowd's soaking it up and screaming her name, which bodes well for her during the Games. She's certainly overcome her average reaping.

Her district partner, Amias, is having a more… mixed, reaction from the Capitol. He's only waving at the sections of Capitolites that are the richest, which is going over well in those sections, but not even remotely well in the other sections, who cheer louder for the other districts as a result.

Behind them, the District Eight tributes are dressed in tunics whose colours change depending on how the light hits them. One second they're gold and blue and red, the next they're green and pink and violet. Calico even has different coloured ribbons braided into her hair. She's going over well amongst the crowd, waving and smiling only slightly, appearing almost regal. She'll definitely be a huge hit over the next few weeks if she keeps this act up. Beside her, Mark smiles and waves at the crowd, even catching a rose that's thrown at him. The crowd screams even louder when he catches it, though Calico does falter in her charming smile for a split second to glare at him. The two of them must not get along very well then. Interesting…

The District Nine tributes are dressed in tunics that look like spirals of grass seeds. The contrast of different sizes and colours of grains works well for them. Rhema seems to be trying to keep a straight face, though she keeps slipping into a nervous grin. It's not working too well for her though, because she's not powerful looking enough to pull off the straight face and it's made even less effective by the fact that she can't keep it up for more than a few seconds. The grin doesn't even work for her since she's so clearly nervous. Beside her, Maui is shaking and gripping the bar of the chariot tightly, staring at the ground. It seems like he's doing everything he can not to cry. The District Nine chariot passes through the street with hardly a second glance.

The District Ten tributes seem to be going over much better with the crowds. They're both dressed in overalls and Stetsons, the only difference being that Wildflower's overalls are shorts rather than pants. She gives the crowd sweet smiles and waves as they go by, which, coupled with her loopy braids, gives her the overall appearance of a cute little kid. It's working out well for her, as she's certainly getting a few cheers from the crowd, which is more than most thirteen-year-olds manage. Texel's going for a more stoic angle, staring straight ahead and barely sparing the Capitolites a glance, but it's a strategy that works for him, especially considering his powerful build. The crowds are going nuts, cheering loudly for him as the District Ten chariot passes by.

After them comes the District Eleven tributes, both with white ribbons woven through their hair and then pulled back with shiny purple ties. A glimpse of the white fabric of Magda's dress is occasionally seen through the reddish-purple ruffles and she wears knee-high brown boots. She smiles and waves at the crowd, who react with cheers. Nothing over the top, but also not a complete write-off. Merlin wears a similar outfit, though it's a looser tunic and ankle boots. He blows kisses at the crowd, playing up the fact that he's a cute little kid. Good choice of strategy, and it's working for him. The crowd shouts his name, clapping and hooting, some even blowing kisses back.

District Twelve brings up the rear, its tributes dressed up in their typical loose miner gear. The District Twelve stylists change things up about as often as the District Seven stylists: maybe once a decade. Occasionally the tributes are dressed in coal dust, though that's rare. Cassandra stands tall and waves at the crowd, looking like a lovable and composed tribute. District Twelve doesn't usually get much of a reaction, but Cicero can hear at least a few shouts of her name. Henrik smiles and waves at the crowd, though it feels half-hearted and isn't going over well with the crowds. He's mostly ignored as the chariot rolls up the street.

All of a sudden, disaster strikes.

Amias turns to wave at another section of Capitolites, which is when he bumps into his district partner, sending Aelin tumbling off the chariot.

"Stop the District Eight chariot!" Chevalier yells into his headset as Aelin tries to scramble out of the way in time and Mark grabs at the reins of the horses. This just makes things worse as the horses start to turn, as he's only grabbed one side. The last four chariots all come to a halt as their horses whinny and step back slightly in confusion. Mark continues to pull on one side of the reins of the horses and lead them around in a circle as Calico rolls her eyes.

Aelin gets to her feet, clearly stunned by the fact that she wasn't just trampled by horses due to the stupidity of her district partner. A stablehand comes running out onto the street to stop the District Eight horses from their continuous circle and she runs after her chariot where Amias looks throughly confused as to what just happened. She manages to climb back on as it rolls along, which causes the crowd – previously laughing at the actions of Mark and Amias – to burst into cheers.

"Think that was staged?" Makvala asks him.

Cicero shakes his head. "She was too shocked. Besides, why would you embarrass yourself for the benefit of your district partner?"

The District Eight chariot has started rolling down the street again, though it's now quite a bit behind the District Seven one. The tributes at the front of the line keep glancing back, trying to figure out what happened.

Chevalier gives Cicero a wide grin. "I had no idea my first year would be this exciting!"

 _Demokritis "Kritis" Areleous, District Six male tribute_

Kritis hops down from the chariot, holding a hand out for Risa to help her down. For a short person, it was a long jump down. He would never say that out loud though, as he's sure that telling her she's short will result in a snappish comment about his own appearance. Her anger at the reaping was only one small part of the hurricane that was Risa Chandler.

She accepts his hand and Kritis realizes that part of him had wondered if she would. She had been fiercely independent on the train, refusing to ask her mentor, Phoebe Gibbson, for help. Phoebe hadn't come out to greet them with Aleksei, Kritis' mentor, and Risa has since taken a stance of "she doesn't care about me, I don't care about her." Kritis had offered to share mentors, but Risa had glared at him and told him that there was no point. It seemed that she had given up on herself already.

"Are you sticking around to talk to other tributes?"

Risa shrugs. "I suppose. Who are you talking to?"

Kritis glances back at the District Seven chariot, where the girl's brushing off the dirt from her fall. The boy barely spares her a glance as he heads back inside. "I thought I'd start there."

He walks over, Risa following along behind him. The girl looks up as they approach. "Hey, are you alright? You took quite a spill."

"Nothing broken, surprisingly. Just bruised."

"That's good. I'm Kritis by the way."

She nods. "I'm Aelin, Lin for short."

"Risa," the girl mutters.

"Your district partner's already run off on you?" Kritis asks.

Lin shrugs. "Amias isn't the… friendliest, district partner to have, shall we say."

"Oh?"

She looks hesitant, like she doesn't want to say anything bad about her last link to home. "He's a bit…"

"Of a dick?" Risa says.

Lin laughs. "That's one way to put it. Vain is another."

"I take it you're not going to be allying with him then?"

She shakes her head. "I doubt he'll be allying with anyone. No one seems good enough for him, not even the mentors."

"Are you going to ally with anyone?"

"Maybe." She gives him a small smile. "I'll have to think about it."

He grins. "Guess we'll see you in training tomorrow then."

"Guess so."

He starts towards the District Eight chariot, where the Eight boy is talking to the girl from Eleven, her district partner standing just behind her, but is stopped by the boy from Three on the way.

"Hey!" The boy gives him a wide grin, his golden-brown eyes smiling with his mouth.

"Hi."

"I'm Ace!" He keeps eye contact with Kritis to the point where it feels like he's actively trying to focus on his face. "You're Demokritis, right?"

"Yeah, but please just call me Kritis."

"And I'm Risa, if you cared." She scowls and crosses her arms.

"Oh, yeah, sorry! That was rude of me," he laughs awkwardly, fidgeting under Risa's intense glare.

She shrugs, clearly still annoyed. Kritis tries to switch topics before things fizzled into awkwardness. "So what did you think of your chariot costume?"

"It's pretty cool how they've got the lights going and everything! It was this little switch at the back of the neck, and I was so worried that I was going to accidentally turn it off!" Ace laughs again, this time more naturally. His laugh's nice, one of those contagious laughs that makes you want to laugh with him.

"Well, you couldn't have made things worse than the Seven boy did!"

His facial expression morphs into one that's slightly more confused. "Yeah, what happened with that? Everyone just kind of went quiet and then laughed, what did he do?"

"He knocked his district partner off the chariot like a fucking idiot," Risa mutters.

"No way! Is she okay?!"

"Yeah, just a bit bruised. Nothing the Capitol can't fix. She almost got trampled by Eight's horses though," Kritis says.

"Woah, that's crazy! At least she wasn't herd." Risa stares at him and Kritis facepalms. Ace laughs. "Herd? You get it?"

"No," she says bluntly.

"Like, a herd of horses. At least she wasn't herd?"

Kritis pats the Three boy on the shoulder. "You're just making it even less funny."

He laughs. "Come on, I'm hilarious!"

Risa sighs and starts to walk away. Kritis grins at him. "I'll see you tomorrow in training, yeah?"

Ace grins back. "Yeah, definitely!"

Kritis heads after Risa, still grinning to himself. The Three boy seems like a bit of a joker, but he also seems honest and trustworthy. He'll be good to keep in mind as a potential ally.

He catches up to Risa. "Who do you want to talk to next?"

She shrugs. "Doesn't matter."

He looks around. A few more tributes were heading upstairs, so they would probably only have time to talk to another tribute or two before everyone would be gone. All of the Careers have already gone up, along with both District Nine and Ten tributes. The girl from Three's talking with Ace as they head over to the pair from Eleven, and the girl from Five's talking with Lin, who looks throughly confused. His gaze finally lands on the pair from Twelve, who are standing by their chariot talking quietly with each other.

"How about those two?"

Risa shrugs again. "Sure."

Kritis walks over to the District Twelve tributes, both of whom look up as they approach. The girl perks up slightly, while the boy scowls and crosses his arms.

"Hey!" the girl says, raising her hand in a wave. "District Six, right?"

Kritis nods. "I'm Kritis, this is Risa."

"Nice to meet you! I'm Cassandra, you guys can call me Cass or Cassie if you like."

"Rik," the boy mutters.

"Nice to meet you," he says, Risa nodding.

"How was your train ride?" Cassie asks. "Ours was awful, our escort would _not_ shut up. And they kept snapping at us for every little thing! Our mentor's pretty cool though."

"Yeah, the escorts are a real piece of work, huh? Ours gets mad when we aren't chipper in the morning," he says.

"Ugh, who even is though? Are you two still in school?"

Risa nods, but Kritis shakes his head. "I work at a factory."

"Oh, that's so cool! We're both in school, right Rik?"

Rik nods. "Yeah."

"So what type of factory are you at? The train was pretty cool, did you build that?"

"No, I do stuff with boats and engine motors," Kritis says. "It usually ends up being sent to District Four, but sometimes it comes here."

"Oh, that's so cool. So do you know how to swim?"

"No, we only build them. No water for us," he laughs slightly before glancing at Rik. "How about you two?"

Rik shakes his head. "The only clean water in Twelve is drinking water. And that's only barely clean."

"Yeah, it's the same with us. No room for lakes when you need factories."

A Capitol official comes over to them just then, his hair bright pink and yellow. "Sorry, but you all need to go inside now. We're closing down this area."

The four of them head inside towards the elevator, Cassie asking the District Six tributes questions along the way.

"So do you have any siblings? I have two little ones, a brother and sister."

"I have one of each too, one older and one younger; Vulcan and Hevea." Kritis responds.

"I have two brothers," Risa says, frowning. She doesn't seem to want to elaborate more than that, and Cassie doesn't press her.

"How about you, Rik?" Kritis asks as he presses the button for the elevator.

Rik shakes his head. "Only child."

"How about a significant other?" Cassie asks.

Kritis feels the familiar twist in his gut when he thinks of Ridley. They weren't dating, but they were flirting. He definitely _seemed_ like he wanted to be dating, if that kiss was anything to go off of. "Not yet."

"Oh? Got someone in mind?" Cassie winks at him.

"Maybe." He grins as they get into the elevator and shoot up towards the sixth floor.

Cassie's light-hearted and friendly. She'd be good to keep in mind as well. He's not so sure about Rik, but he'd be good to keep an eye on in training, just in case he's really skilled in one area or another. He's not sure he trusts either of them though. They seem like they're hiding something. He'll want to talk to them a few more times before he makes up his mind.

Kritis sighs to himself as they wave goodbye to the District Twelve tributes and step out onto the District Six floor where they'll be staying for the next week. Training starts tomorrow morning and it was all getting entirely too real.

 **Hey guys! Sorry this is so late, I've been busier than expected with work lately ;.; I'm hoping to get at least one more chapter up before I go back to uni at the end of next week, but we'll see.**

 **Update on the sponsor system! I've decided not to do one, just because most people were kind of neutral on it. If you _really_ want one, let me know and I'll keep thinking about it. **

**The breakdown for the bloodbath is now up on my profile! It'll be based off of:**

 **\- How realistic their chances are**

 **\- How much readers like them**

 **\- How much their submitter reviews**

 **As well as a couple of other factors! So please make sure you're reviewing and letting me know who you want to see more of, as I'm more likely to write tributes that I know readers want to see more of!**

 **Also, Chevalier and Felix belong to CelticGames4, thank you very much for letting me use them!**

 **CQ: Which of the district partners (Ryda, Ace, Risa, Mark, Rhema, Merlin) stood out to you the most and why? Which of the other tributes (or all the tributes in general) stood out to you the most and why?**

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	11. Training Day 1

_Cadell Baines, District Two male tribute_

Agni's curled up at the foot of his bed, blankets wrapped around him, muttering about how bloody cold it is. The Academy's turned off the heating in the dorms in an attempt to prepare them for how cold their arena may be, but all it's done is make his best friend even grouchier than normal. Tyson and Jove are both curled up on the floor in their sleeping bags. They usually went home every night as they lived in the main area of the district and had no reason to live in the dorms, however they've been forced to stay over for the training exercise. It's the middle of winter, and the four of them couldn't be more miserable.

Or at least those three couldn't be. Cadell had dealt with colder temperatures than this up on the mountain where they had no heating and less insulated buildings. But even he was beginning to crack and want to set their room on fire just for some warmth.

The other three had stayed in his room for the night, hoping that the warmth of other bodies nearby would help slightly. He had agreed to let Agni stay with him on the bed only because he hadn't been provided with the sleeping bag that Tyson and Jove were, and he didn't want to make him sleep on the cold floor with no barrier protecting him from the freezing wood.

Before long, the other two doze off, huddled together for warmth. Agni stays in his position at the foot of Cadell's bed, blanket wrapped around his shoulders and feet tucked under Cadell's comforter. Cadell shifts to brush against his feet, causing the other boy to glare at him.

"Get your fucking feet away from me! They're freezing," he hisses.

"So are yours." He brushes his feet against Agni's again, grinning when the other boy snarls at him.

"I will kick you off this bed."

"It's _my_ bed!"

Agni huffs and draws his feet away from him, exposing them to the icy air. Cadell sacrifices his toes to the cold to nudge his foot again. "Sleep with me."

Agni draws back slightly, staring at him. "What?"

Cadell shifts backwards, pressing his back up against the cold wall. "There's room. Come on, two blankets are better than one."

He scowls. "You're joking right?"

"Do you think I'd freeze my toes off for a joke? Come on, you're uncomfortable there, admit it. It's so much better to lie down and huddle under two blankets than to freeze yourself and sleep sitting up. You're probably gonna fall halfway through the night."

"Oh, and I won't next to you?"

"If you fall off over there, you land on your ass. If you fall off over here, you land on Tyson."

Agni sighs and throws the pillow he was hugging at him. "Fine, budge up."

"Can't get any closer to the wall than this."

It takes some adjusting, but eventually they make it work: Cadell pressed against the wall with the blanket between him and the freezing plaster, his arm slung around Agni to keep the other boy from falling off the bed.

They're quiet for a minute, both trying to get to sleep in the freezing cold, before Cadell notices something and can't keep himself from whispering it to Agni.

"Your hair smells really good."

"What the fuck, Baines?"

"Sorry, I just… It's right there, okay?"

"You're such an asshole."

There's a long pause where all he could hear was the wind howling outside the window. Then-

"You know that's what happens when you take showers, right?"

Cadell pinches Agni's stomach, causing him to yelp in surprise. "I shower!"

"Shh, you're going to wake them up!"

They both fall silent, waiting for any sound or movement from the other two. When none comes, Cadell speaks up again, keeping his voice to a whisper.

"I can't believe you don't think I bathe."

"I can't believe you were smelling my hair like some kind of stalker."

"Oh my gosh, it's right by my nose. I couldn't help it, okay?"

Agni rolls over to face him, dark brown eyes staring steadily at him. "Better?"

Cadell runs a hand through his black hair, grinning when the other boy swats his hand away. "Much."

"Stop being a creep about my hair, you weirdo."

"I can't help it, you have nice hair."

"Again; showers. Wonderful invention."

"I don't have to let you sleep on my bed you know."

"Fine, fine. You might occasionally shower."

Cadell nudges Agni's leg with his knee. "I shower regularly, thank you very much!"

Agni laughs, a rare but wonderful sound. Cadell pokes his stomach.

"Shh, you'll wake the others!" he teases.

Agni kicks at him, tangling the blankets around their legs and moving closer. "It's too fucking cold."

"It's not that bad."

"Shut up, I can feel you shivering."

He snorts and pulls him closer, trying to get more of the smaller boy's warmth. "Only a little bit."

"Yeah right. Dumbass." He tucks his head under Cadell's chin and before long his breaths slow and he falls asleep. Cadell stays up a while longer, listening to the quiet breathing of his best friend and wondering if Agni would miss him when one of them left for the Games. Cadell hoped he would be chosen, of course, mostly because of the honour and glory associated with being a victor. Because if anyone could win the Games, it would be him.

But another part of him, a small, quiet part that didn't want to speak up out of fear, hoped that he would be chosen because he sincerely wondered if he could bear to watch Agni fighting for his life in the arena.

* * *

When he wakes up, his bed's cold, but Agni's not there. Agni's hundreds of miles away, safe but grumpy in District Two, probably already out for his morning run. And he was here in the Capitol, getting ready for his first day of "training." It was more like practice at this point, as he could probably do most of the stuff downstairs blindfolded.

Cadell gets dressed and heads out to the main room for breakfast. Ryda's already out there, along with their mentors, Lyla and Livius. Lyla won the 4th Games, Livius the 19th. Twila was presumably still caking on makeup in her bedroom.

Ryda slides a bowl of oatmeal and fruit down the table to him. "Eat up. We've got to get going soon if we want to be the first ones down."

"What difference does it make? We can't hit the stations until after they talk to us."

"It gives us a chance to strategize. We can see what the other tributes are like when the cameras are off. Besides, we still need to talk to Four."

Cadell groans and digs into his breakfast. Both Four tributes had disappeared from the chariots by the time they had finished talking with Emerald and Jasper, so they hadn't gotten a feel for what they would be like. He's still reluctant to look for tributes outside of the volunteers, but Ryda was insistent on it.

They had agreed to act as co-leaders to the Career alliance though Cadell would be the acting leader. They would run things by each other, but not the One tributes. It was better to let them think that Cadell was the true leader in order to keep the alliance as steady as possible.

Besides, when it came down to it, he was the one in charge. His word was final.

They head down to the training hall after breakfast, racing each other down the stairs. It's not much of a race, as there's only two flights of stairs to go down, but it makes them both feel better to be active and moving. Most trainees in Two spend all day practicing or going for runs, and the past few days of prepping and being stuck on a train have left them both with a particular cooped-up feeling.

To Ryda's pleasure, they're the first ones downstairs. They take a seat on one of the mats used for hand-to-hand combat and watch as more tributes slowly file in, most with their district partner. The pair from Three are the next ones down, followed by the two from Twelve and then the District Four tributes. Cadell glances over at Ryda.

"Want to talk to them now?"

She shakes her head. "Let's wait for the others."

It wasn't long before the two District One tributes were walking through the doors and heading over to meet them. Jasper's red hair is gelled up at the front, a style that Tyson had jokingly nicknamed the "white boy hairstyle," though it's thankfully lacking the sparkles from the night before. Emerald has her black hair braided back, a few strands falling loose around her face.

"Hey guys, how's it going?" Jasper greets them with a cheerful smile, which Cadell mirrors.

"Not too bad. How'd you two sleep?"

" _Amazing._ These beds are so soft. I mean, the ones in the Victor's Village are pretty sweet, but I mean-" he clicks his tongue. "Can't beat the Capitol, am I right?"

Cadell laughs while Ryda rolls her eyes. She'd been hostile towards the District One boy, but Cadell couldn't tell whether that was due to his sunny personality or the fact that her sister had been killed by the One boy in her Games.

"Yeah, well we've got more important things to think about than beds." Ryda glances over at where the Four tributes are standing. The boy keeps glancing over at his district partner, but she ignores him, focusing on the other tributes instead. Their eyes meet and she sends Cadell an icy glare.

"What do you make of those two?" Cadell asks, glancing over at Emerald, who had so far remained pretty quiet.

She glances back at him, chewing on her thumb nail. "What do you mean?"

"Potential allies or no?"

She shrugs. "The boy seems weak, but he's physically strong. Girl looks tough."

"We're not really lacking in physical strength. Girl might be good though." Jasper crosses his arms. "Doesn't seem particularly friendly, but maybe that's just because we didn't approach her last night."

"Should we approach her now then?" Ryda asks.

"Sure."

The four of them walk over to the District Four tributes. The boy's eyes widen and he looks like he's about to wet his pants when the Head Trainer calls them over.

Cadell lines up with the rest of the tributes, in between Ryda and the scrawny girl from Three. She looks taller in person, but not much stronger. The tiny girl from Ten is behind him, and shrinks back when he takes his place. Her district partner glares at Cadell menacingly.

The Head Trainer goes over the rules for the gym, but he mostly zones it out. It's pretty basic stuff: don't attack people, try different stations, you get two and a half days to train before private sessions, blah blah blah blah blah. Easy.

When they're finally let go, Ryda elbows him in the ribs. "Were you even listening?!"

"Vaguely."

She huffs and rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Let's go talk to Grace."

Cadell looks over at the District One tributes. "You two go off and train. If all of us go over at once, she might think we're ganging up on her."

They both nod and separate, both heading off to weapon stations. Emerald heads straight for the throwing knives, while Jasper goes for the bow and arrows.

Grace, which is apparently the District Four girl's name, is over at the fire making station. The District Two tributes head over there, causing the District Twelve boy to scurry away. Grace doesn't shrink away though, holding their gaze with cold brown eyes. Cadell finally begins to think that she might be of some use to the alliance after all.

"Grace, right?" Ryda asks.

"Grey."

"Oh. Grey. Right, well, I'm Ryda, and this is Cadell."

Grey doesn't say anything, only gives Ryda an unimpressed look, which makes her even more awkward.

"Have you trained?" Cadell asks, cutting right to the chase. He doesn't want to waste more time on building an alliance than necessary.

"Yes."

"In what?"

She shrugs. "Knives, mostly. Survival. Climbing."

Cadell looks over at Ryda who's tapping her foot impatiently. "Are you interested in joining the Careers?"

"No."

Cadell shrugs and is about to walk away when Ryda decides to speak again. "What do you mean no?"

"I mean, I don't want to be a part of the Careers."

"But you've trained!"

Grey shrugs. "I didn't plan on volunteering. My uncle just wanted me to be prepared in case I was reaped."

Ryda stares at her in astonishment, clearly never having thought about training without the intention of volunteering one day. For people like them, volunteering was always the end goal. If you didn't reach that goal, the last twelve years of your life was a waste. Dying in the arena was less of a waste in Cadell's mind.

He taps on Ryda's arm. "Come on, let's just go."

She huffs and walks off with him. "I can't believe she doesn't want to join our alliance!"

"She'll probably be going in alone. It didn't look like she particularly cares for her district partner."

Ryda scowls. "I was really hoping we would get the better Four tribute."

He laughs as they head over to the spear station where the Four boy was training. He really was rather pathetic looking, barely able to hit the target. Cadell feels like he shouldn't judge him so harshly, but really. This was not Career material.

The boy drops the spear he's holding as the two of them approach, picking it up again as they come to a halt next to him. "Having trouble?" Cadell asks, smirking.

He laughs awkwardly. "Just slightly."

"You're Darius, right?" Ryda says.

He nods. "Darius Greene. It's..." He trails off, clearing his throat and looking uncomfortable. The District Two tributes raise their eyebrows. "I was going to say nice to meet you, but that's not really true here, is it?"

Cadell shrugs. "Guess not. I'm Cadell, this is Ryda. We're from Two."

Darius nods and glances around nervously. "Well fuck."

"Excuse me?"

Darius blushes, shifting awkwardly. "I just… You're Two, you know? Careers."

Cadell sighs. "He's not trained."

"Are you trained?" Ryda asks. "You're from Four, surely you've trained at least a little."

Darius shakes his head. "I'm just a fisher, not a killer."

Cadell lets out an annoyed sigh, turning and walking away. He was fed up with going around talking to people who were completely useless. He wanted real Careers, ones who actually wanted to be a part of the alliance. Not these weak Four tributes who didn't want to be here. He had no time for them. If Four didn't want to win the Games, they didn't deserve the chance to try.

Ryda catches up to him. "Well what do we do now?"

He shrugs. "Watch the other tributes, see how they do. If any stand out, we can go over and talk to them, but I think we should focus on our own training for the moment."

She nods and heads over to the ax station. Cadell heads over to the sword station, wishing that Agni was there to practice with him. He always trained better with his best friend by his side. The boy from Ten's already there, clumsily slashing at a dummy. The boy may be strong, but he looks awkward with the sword, his cuts barely scrapping the surface of the dummy's foam.

 _He's slashing too,_ Cadell thinks. _Big mistake if you want your enemy to go down._

He grabs a sword from the rack, swinging it around in his hand. It's lighter than what he usually preferred, closer to what Agni would grab, but it would do. He approaches one of the dummies, ignoring the nervous glance that the boy from Ten shoots him. It's better if he watches: intimidation and all that. Ryda seemed to be big at that, smoothly decapitating a dummy as the boy from Eight watches, terrified, from the rope station.

Cadell stares down the dummy for a couple of seconds. It was a bit smaller than those they trained with a the Academy – this one was obviously based off of the typical outer district tributes, while the dummies at home were based on Careers. He quickly slashes at its shoulders, smoothly slicing off its arms. _Incapacitate your opponent first if possible. Then-_

He thrusts his sword into the dummy, driving it through so that the point went out its back.

" _You're going to be inclined to slice at your opponent, to resist killing them," his instructor had told him on his first day of sword training. "But that is wrong. You need to thrust, to kill them. There are no second chances in the Games. Your opponent is trying to kill you. Kill them first."_

"Impressive."

He glances over at the voice. The girl from Twelve is leaning against the rack of swords, a smug smile on her face like she knows something he doesn't. "Thanks."

"Cassie."

He gives her a curt nod. "Cadell."

"I know." He raises his eyebrows and she only laughs. "You wanna show me how to use that?"

"There's instructors for that," he says cooly. _What is this girl up to?_

"Yeah, but you seem so much better at this than they do." Cassie has a teasing smile on her face, like she's expecting him to respond with some clever retort.

He shrugs. "I probably am. They're soft."

"Oh?" She leans in, grinning. "What about me? Am I soft?"

Cadell considers it. She was from Twelve, which would typically make her automatically soft in his books. But she seemed sure of herself, holding herself with a confidence that wasn't typical of most Twelve citizens. Physically speaking, she seemed strong and athletic. "I suppose not."

Cassie's grin widens. "Good. So you gonna show me how to use that?"

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Stronger allies, maybe?"

"You're my enemy."

"For now, maybe. But isn't your district partner looking for more allies?"

 _Damn it, Ryda._ "Maybe."

"I'm strong," Cassie says. "And if you show me how to use that, I'll be even stronger. I'd be a useful ally."

"You're from Twelve. You're weak."

"I thought you said I wasn't soft."

"That doesn't make you useful to Careers."

"You don't know that," she says, crossing her arms. "You haven't even seen me fight."

Cadell sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. I'll keep an eye on you during training and think about it."

"And if I prove you wrong?"

"Then we'll see."

Cassie smirks. "You'll say yes."

"I doubt it. Twelve doesn't usually send good tributes."

"Wow, rude."

"One victor anyone?"

"Not after this year." Cassie turns and walks off, her blonde ponytail swishng behind her.

Cadell scoffs and returns to chopping the dummies to bits. _These tributes will be the death of me._

 _Maui Keoni, District Nine male tribute_

Maui sits down at a lunch table with his plate of food. It's filled with meat and veggies, surprisingly healthy for the Capitol, and lacks the bright colours that Maui had come to associate with food in the Capitol. Rhema sits down across from him, seeming to have also found no one else to talk to. She barely looks at him though, focusing instead on pushing her food around her plate, occasionally taking a bite. He notices that she's just grabbed veggies, making a sort of salad. He's tempted to ask her about it, but doesn't, worried that she might snap at him. Rhema didn't seem like the angry type, but you never know.

The two eat in silence for a few minutes before Rhema speaks up. "So, what did you look at this morning?"

Maui shrugs. "Survival stations, mostly. I'm going to work at the rope station this afternoon. You?"

"Oh, I did traps this morning! I did better than I thought I would. I was honestly expecting to crash and burn."

"What are you going to work on this afternoon?"

"I was thinking of checking out the knives station?" She sounds hesitant. "I mean, I'll have to go to a weapons station eventually. Might as well get it over with."

Maui feels his stomach twist at that. He had been avoiding thinking about the actual _killing_ part of the Hunger Games until now. He had noticed a few tributes hanging around the weapons stations, but hadn't wanted to go over. He thinks that if he does, he'll probably have a panic attack in front of everyone and have even less of a chance now than he did before. He gives Rhema a quick nod before going back to his food.

"Have you been talking to anyone?" She asks the question awkwardly, like she's not sure if she wants to say it.

He shakes his head. The only ones who had really come by the camouflage station that morning had been the pair from Eleven and they had mostly kept to themselves, the girl helping the boy with his camouflage. The boy was the youngest one here, only twelve years old, and had given Maui a nervous look when they first arrived at the station. He seemed to just be following his district partner around, and Maui understood the temptation. He wished that he could remember the two tributes' names. Madaline? Falcon? Something like that.

"I talked a little bit with the girl from Five. Natalia. She seems… interesting. She swore a lot while we were working," Rhema says with a small frown. "She was truly terrible at tying knots."

 _Enej probably would have liked her,_ Maui thinks and immediately feels tears welling up inside of him. "I-I'm going to go to the washroom."

He gets up quickly and races to the washroom, almost bumping into the boy from Seven on his way there.

"Watch it!" the boy snaps at him.

Maui doesn't look back to apologize though, rushing into the bathroom and locking himself in one of the stalls. Tears are already pouring down his face, and he can feel his breath catching in his throat, making it hard for him to stop crying. All he can think about is Enej swearing at bullies and he wishes desperately that his best friend were here with him now. Not in the Games of course, but here to calm him down. To rub his back, and stroke his hair, and tell him that everything would be alright. That he would be home again soon. He wished that the clothes they gave them for training had pockets so that at the very least he could have Bucky with him right now.

"Nine? Are you in here?" It's a higher voice that he would have expected, a girl's voice. He isn't sure who it belongs to though.

He wipes his eyes quickly and tries to get his breathing under control so that she'll think the bathroom's empty and leave him alone. It doesn't work so well though, and there's a small sigh before he hears the sound of footsteps approaching and the bathroom door closing behind her.

"Look, I know it sucks, but it'll only suck worse if you spend all week locked in the bathroom."

Maui bites his lip to keep back a hiccup. "I-I'm not-" _hiccup._ "-hiding." He closes his eyes tightly. He hates it when strangers hear him cry.

"Yeah? Then why have you locked yourself in the bathroom stall? Why didn't you answered when I asked for you?"

He tries to think of what Enej would say in this situation. "T-Technically you didn't ask for me. You asked for Nine."

He hears an exasperated sigh. "Fine. What's your name?"

"M-Maui. What's yours?"

"Lin."

He tries to remember what district she's from, but the name's not ringing any bells. "S-Sorry, but who are you?"

"I'm the District Seven girl. Aelin. Lin."

"O-Oh. You're the one who fell off your chariot."

He can hear her sighing again. "Yes, that's me. _Technically,_ I was pushed though. Since we're being all technical about what we're saying and all."

Maui lets out a small giggle, surprised that someone from another district is being so nice to him. He can hear a slight movement outside before Lin speaks again. "You're fourteen, aren't you Maui?"

He nods and then remembers that she can't see him. "Yes."

"Fourteen year olds don't usually win. Is that why you're in here?"

He feels his lip tremble again and wipes his eyes quickly to keep the fresh tears from falling. "I just want to go home."

"Yeah? What's waiting for you back at home?"

"My parents. My brothers. My sister. My best friend."

"What are their names?"

"Iokua. Semolina. Durum. Makaio. Momi. Enej."

"Wow, there's a lot of them. I don't have any siblings. Just my parents and I. That's okay, though. I have Scipio for that."

"Is Scipio your friend?"

"Mmhm. Scip and I work together. He plays piano and I sing."

Maui feels himself perk up. "You sing?"

"Yep. I'm pretty good if I do say so myself. You like music?"

"A little. I'm not very good at it though. I was always thrown out of our music classes for playing offkey."

Lin laughs and he smiles slightly. She has a bright laugh, amplified by the echoey washroom. "Well, at least you tried!"

"Yeah, at least there's that..."

They're quiet for a minute before Lin speaks up again. "Do you want to come out again? I think they're going to let us back in again in a few minutes."

Maui hesitates before sliding the latch on the stall off to the side and gently pushing open the door. Lin's sitting on the floor, fiddling with the end of her ponytail. She gives him a kind smile before standing up. "Feeling better?"

He nods slightly. "Thank you."

"No problem."

The two of them head back to the training hall together, Lin humming quietly to herself. It helps to keep Maui's nerves down, so he doesn't mind it that much. She has a nice voice, from what he can tell. Though he's never been very skilled at music.

He's planning on leaving as soon as they get to the training hall, but Lin stops him. "Have you been talking to any of the other tributes?"

He shakes his head.

"Are you thinking about allies?"

"Maybe. Why?"

Lin shrugs. "You seem like a decent kid."

Maui feels a hot blush spread down his neck. _Is she-?_ "Are you asking me if-"

"You want to be allies? Yeah."

"A-Are you sure? I wouldn't be the most useful ally. You can definitely find better."

"I suppose. But there's no guarantee that they'll be trustworthy. You seem like you are."

He shifts on his feet, flustered. "I… I guess..."

"Think about it." She gives him one last kind smile before heading off to the knife station.

Maui attempts to shrug off his awkwardness and heads off towards the rope station, trying to focus instead on the positive, like the potential ally he might have. Lin seemed nice enough, and she would probably be helpful in the arena. He'd have to ask Avalon for advice on whether allying with her was a good idea or not, but for now Maui thinks he's safe.

The boy from Eight and the girl from Six are already at the rope station when he arrives. The boy's doing well, setting a trap that could probably catch some sort of small animal. The girl's struggling a bit, but her small fingers are nimble and she's managing some more complex knots. She ignores him as he sits down and starts following the instructions on the small screen imbedded in the table.

The boy glances over at him. "You're from Nine, right? Maui?"

He nods. "And you're…?"

"Mark."

"It's nice to meet you?"

"Hm." Mark goes back to making his net, and Maui continues following the instructions for a simple knot.

He's been at the station for about ten minutes when the girl from Ten comes over and starts talking to the girl from Six. "Hi! I'm Wildflower Dandelions! What's your name?"

The other girl stares at her for a few moments before replying. "Risa Chandler."

"It's nice to meet you! How old are you?"

"...Fourteen."

"Cool! I'm thirteen! Are you looking for allies?"

Risa looks annoyed. "No."

"Oh." Wildflower seems to sink in on herself. "Well… I guess I'll see you later then?"

Risa shrugs and Wildflower sinks some more before walking over to Maui. "Hi."

She looks down, so he does his best at a friendly smile. "Hi. You're Wildflower, right?"

"Yeah!" She perks up a bit. "What's your name?"

"I'm Maui. I'm from Nine."

"Oh wow! I'm from Ten. Is Nine cool?"

He shrugs. "I guess so? I mean, it's decent enough. What's Ten like?"

"It's awesome! There's so many animals there! I wish we didn't have to kill them though," she says, frowning.

"Yeah, that must be hard. Do you work on a ranch?"

She shakes her head. "My mother barely even lets me go outside. And we live in the center of the district, so it's just processing plants around us. Ranches are for rich people."

"Oh. Right." He feels a wave of shame crash over him. Sometimes he forgets that not everyone was as well off as his family.

There's an awkward silence for a few seconds before Wildflower speaks again. "So how's your knot-tying going?"

"Oh, um, okay." Maui looks down at the piece of rope he's holding in his hands. He's beginning to get the hang of the most basic knot, but it's still looking pretty rough. With a little luck, he'll be able to do most of the simple knots by the end of the day.

"It's looking pretty good! I don't think I could do something like that!"

"I'm sure you could! The instructions are pretty simple and they explain it really well. Here, I'll help you!"

The two of them set about learning knots, Wildflower following Maui's instructions until she figured it out for herself. She was a bit too… bubbly, for Maui's liking, but she was nice enough, and he enjoyed spending time with her.

They're working on setting up small traps for animals when Wildflower broaches the subject of an alliance.

"Do you have any ally yet, Maui?"

He almost drops his rope. "I… I don't know. Maybe?"

"Oh." She frowns.

"Why? Do you want one?"

She nods. "I've been trying to find someone all day, but no one's working. Merlin won't leave his district partner's side long enough for me to ask, Risa didn't want to talk to me, Amias disappeared after lunch, and Calico made fun of my name."

"She did?"

"Yeah. She couldn't believe that my parents named me Wildflower Dandelions." She shrugs. "I dunno, it was weird."

"Oh. That wasn't very nice."

"No, it wasn't." Wildflower frowns, looking upset. "I don't understand why people are so mean."

"People are dicks," Maui says, quoting what Enej said to him almost everyday at school.

Wildflower stares at him. "Did you just say-" she drops her voice to a whisper "dicks?"

He blinks at her. "Yes?"

She stares at him. "But that's a bad word!"

"Don't you swear?"

"No! Never!"

"Oh." Hanging out with Enej had made him forget that there were people in the world who didn't swear every other sentence.

"Don't your parents get mad at you?"

"Sure, if I swear in front of them. But I usually don't."

"Oh. Okay." There's a moment of silence before Wildflower hesitantly asks, "So… Would you maybe want to be allies?"

"I'm… not sure. I might be allying with Lin from Seven. But I'm not sure yet. I want to talk to my mentor first."

"Oh. Well… Keep me in mind? Please?"

He nods. "Sure thing."

 _Jacy Dahl, District Three female tribute_

After lunch, Jacy heads over to the berry station. It's empty when she gets there, so she settles in at one of the screens. The first berry to show up is a pretty looking white berry. It looks a little bit like the pearls the girl from One had worn in her hair during the chariot rides the previous year. The veins of the berry stood out under its skin in a way that reminded her of grapes. And grapes were safe to eat. So…

 _Safe._

A large red X appears over her screen before being replaced by a paragraph of information about what the berry – which was apparently mistletoe – could do to her. Convulsions, blurred vision, stomach cramps, diarrhea… Yikes. Good thing it was only a simulation.

The next berry that appears looks a lot like a blueberry, just more of a dark purple than a dark blue. Jacy considers it for a minute. On one hand, it looked like a blueberry, and blueberries were safe to eat. But she had just gone that route with the grape vs mistletoe, and look where that had gotten her. The berries look hard though, so she chooses that as her deciding factor and goes with-

 _Unsafe._

A big green checkmark fills her screen before fading to a paragraph of text about ivy berries. Causes pain and swelling in the lips, face, tongue and skin. Not a fun time.

The girl from Five slips into the seat next to her and Jacy can't help but give her a once over. Tall and lean, with long legs and a small chest. She can't help the jolt of envy that goes through her as she wishes that she could look like her. Strong but undeniably feminine. She notices that the nose stud that the girl had been wearing at the reaping was back, though she hadn't been wearing it during the chariot rides the night before.

The Five girl starts up the simulator, punching in an answer after barely glancing at the berries. All that Jacy caught was that they were an orangey-red. She gets a big red X, but Jacy isn't that surprised. The other girl turns to her, sighing deeply. "Are you any good at this berry crap?"

"Oh. Um, I guess? I dunno, I've only done a couple so far."

"Help me out here." The girl clicks to the next berry. They're bright red and round, gathered in clusters surrounded by prickly green leaves.

"The leaves don't look nice. Say no."

The other girl laughs. "I love that you're judging it by its angry leaves," she says before hitting _Unsafe._ A large green checkmark appears and they both breathe a sigh of relief.

"Okay, good so far, what've we got next?" Five clicks through to the next berry, not even glancing at the paragraph of information for what were apparently holly berries. What appears next looks like tiny tomatoes and makes Jacy's mouth water just looking at them. Fresh tomatoes were rare but always _so_ good.

"Say yes for those, they look delicious."

She laughs. "Right? Oh man, I want a tomato so bad right now."

She clicks _Safe_ and they both groan as a large red X fills the screen. "The tomatoes betrayed us!" Five cries and Jacy laughs.

The girl grins at her, her blue eyes even brighter when they're lit up by her smile. "You're pretty cool. What's your name?"

"Jacy. You're Nathalia, right?"

"Talia, yeah. I'm from Five. Whoop di freaking doo."

"That bad, huh?"

She laughs bitterly. "Five's trash. But where isn't nowadays?"

"One. Two. Four."

"Mm, true. Damn rich bastards. Don't even realize how good they've got it."

Jacy can't help but feel slightly surprised, as Talia looked decently well fed, especially compared to her district partner. But then again, you can't always tell wealth just by looking at someone.

"I doubt all of them are rich. Just like not all of us non-Careers are poor."

"Hm. They sure look it. And One's definitely rich, what with his brother and all."

Jacy glances over at Jasper. He's at the knife station, throwing with deadly precision, hitting the bullseye almost every time. She had been hoping that he wouldn't be as terrifying as say, Cadell, since he was the same age as her and probably didn't have as much training as the Two boy would. But her hopes had been crushed, as he was just as intimidating as the rest of the Careers, age be damned.

"Yeah, and he's definitely a strong competitor."

"Heck, all the Careers are." Talia says. "Did you see Two destroying that dummy earlier?"

Jacy shakes her head.

"Chopped all its limbs off," she says. "Pretty freaky."

"What about the girls?"

"One seems pretty good. She's spent all her time at the throwing knives, so no clue what she's like with anything else. I dunno, maybe she's a one trick wonder."

"We'd better hope that's the case. What about Two?"

"She's… interesting? I mean, she seems strong enough and was pretty intimidating at axes earlier, but she keeps checking out the other tributes. Like, seeing what we're training with and how good we are."

"Do you think they're trying to build up the Career alliance?" Jacy asks.

"Hm, maybe. Why, would you be interested?"

"Not even a little bit. They'd only use you for your skills and then kill you as soon as you're no longer part of the plan. It might get you out of the bloodbath, but it's a death sentence. I'd rather take my chances, thanks."

"Yeah, the bloodbath's not so bad. As long as you're good in hand-to-hand, you don't really have that much to worry about."

"What, and you're good at that?"

"Uh, yes?" Talia says it like it should be obvious. "I'm pretty well known for it in Five."

"Really?" Jacy asks, surprised. Apart from her scar, nothing about Talia screamed _I'm well known for beating the shit out of people._

"Yeah, all my friends are." She snickers. "My girlfriend even broke my sister's nose once."

"Oh my gosh, that's awful! Was she alright?!"

Talia laughs. "Yeah, yeah, she's fine. Don't worry about Marline, she's a bitch."

"Did you break up with her?"

"Huh?"

"Your girlfriend. Did you break up with her?"

"No, why would I? Genera's awesome and Marline deserved it."

"Oh." Talia's flippant attitude towards her sister's injury amazes her. In a way, it reminds her of the way Seq talked about his parents. He was related to them but couldn't care less about what happened to them because they couldn't care less about what happened to him. "So how did you get into fighting?"

"Do you want the easy answer or the hard one?" Talia's face had morphed back into the hard, tough look that she wore at the reaping. Jacy swallows hard.

"The tough one."

"My sister tried to strangle me with my own necklace. I wanted revenge."

"Damn, your sister's pretty fucked up, isn't she?"

Talia laughs, drawing the attention of the Twelve boy who's training nearby. "Yeah, you could say that. What, are your siblings nice and easy to handle?"

"Well they've never tried to kill me. Anything would seem nice compared to that."

She laughs again. "Good point! I should tell Nina that the next time she complains about Tabitha," she adds, talking mostly to herself.

"Is Nina your friend?"

"One of them," Talia gets somber again. "She was fun. Brought out the crazy in me. Pretty dangerous for a fourteen-year-old."

"You must really miss her, huh?" Jacy thinks of Russell and Seq and the ache in her chest returns. She might never see them again.

"Yeah, I do. I miss all of them. Especially Genera and Spark. Do you have a partner?"

"Not yet. I'm only sixteen though."

"So?" Talia laughs. "What, do sixteen-year-olds not have partners in Three?"

"No, they do, I'm just not that concerned about it yet. I don't need to think about settling down yet. Or at least I didn't..." She trails off, frowning.

Talia's expression darkens. "Yeah. Guess it doesn't really matter now."

They sit in silence for a few moments before Talia stands up quickly. "Well I'm going to go do… knots. Yeah. I'll talk to you tomorrow maybe?"

"Yeah, tomorrow. Sounds great." Jacy's voice is hollow. She'd been so wrapped up in how much fun Talia was that she'd forgotten the real reason they were here. If she wanted to make it home to her friends and family, if she wanted a chance to learn what she wanted from her life, a chance to find love and settle down… Talia would have to die.

The District Five girl heads off to the rope station where the District Eight boy was making a scarily good noose, and Jacy turns back to her berry training.

Dark red berries with round, smooth leaves. _Safe._

Red-orange berries with a hollow center. _Unsafe._

Jacy runs a hand through her hair. It just wasn't as interesting on her own. Talia had made it fun, and now she was back to feeling worried about the Games and focusing just on how scared she was. She wasn't a fighter. She couldn't kill someone. She'd barely even looked at the weapons today, though she wasn't sure if she was scared of failing at them or being good at them, since that would mean that she now had the ability to kill someone in a fight.

Maybe she needed a fighter to ally with. Someone like Talia, someone who wasn't scared. And Talia was fun. She was distracting. They got along. Maybe if they weren't here, they could have even been friends.

It's a thought that makes her want to cry. What was the point to all of this? A revenge plot for people who are long dead? Jacy hadn't done anything wrong. She doubted that Talia had either.

She decides to bite the bullet and heads towards the dagger station. The girl from Eight's there, stabbing at a dummy's abdomen, ignoring the trainer who is busy instructing the pair from Eleven. Jacy stands next to them to listen and the girl gives her a small smile while her district partner inches closer to her. The instructor shows them the basic movements and how to hold the dagger without hurting themselves. The boy from Eleven, Merlin, looks so awkward with the weapon, while his district partner seems slightly more at ease, but still uncomfortable. The two of them move away as soon as the trainer's finished her explanation, so Jacy picks her own dummy to get to work on.

Before long, the boy from Ten shows up, and the trainer chooses to teach him on the dummy right next to Jacy. She tries not to feel too awkward, but she's just made even more aware of how pathetic she must look, stabbing awkwardly at the dummy while the trainer does beautiful motions and the boy looks like he could crush her head with one arm. The trainer heads off and the boy looks over at her.

"Um, hi," Jacy says, attempting a smile.

He smiles back and immediately looks a hundred times less intimidating. "Hi. You're Jacy, right?"

"Yes! What's your name?" She remembered his district partner's name – who couldn't? - but not his. It started with a t, maybe?

"Texel Nimari. It's nice to meet you."

"You too!" She's not sure what to say next, so goes back to stabbing awkwardly at her dummy.

Texel laughs. "Having trouble?"

"Uh, just a bit." She gives him a nervous smile, not wanting to show weakness in front of someone who would be trying to kill her in less than a week.

"I could help? It's doesn't seem that different from a sword, and I was doing okay at the sword station this morning."

"Oh, um, sure! If you don't mind..."

He walks over so that he's at the same dummy as her. "Are you scared of it?"

"No," she lies.

He smiles. "I am. Knowing how easily you could kill someone… It's freaky."

"Yeah, it is. Especially when they could just as easily kill you."

"Have you ever been in a fight before?"

She shakes her head. "You?"

"Yeah, a couple of times. Not as much as my friend Dixie." Texel chuckles to himself. "She flies off the handle at the most ridiculous of things."

"Wow. So have you ever used a knife before?"

"Never. I mean, except for in cooking." Noticing Jacy's eager look, he quickly adds, "I don't cook that often though."

"Oh. Okay. Cooking's pretty fun though."

"I guess. My little sister always loved cooking with our mom."

"You have a little sister? What's her name?"

"Tailea. She's seven. I also have a little brother, Gidran."

"Are you the oldest?"

Texel shakes his head, his lips tightening in a frown. "I have an older brother. Auxios."

"How old are your brothers?"

"Eleven and twenty-five."

"Wow! That's a huge age range, huh?"

"Yeah, my parents wanted to space out the births a bit. Do you have any siblings?"

"Yeah, six."

He stares at her. "Six?!"

Jacy laughs. "Yeah! I have a pretty big family."

"Yeah, no kidding. What're their names?"

"Leavitt, Arco, Edgar, Erie, Verena and Dayton."

"Wow, that's a lot. Cool."

"Mm." Jacy stabs at the dummy a couple of times, trying to hit the vital areas as quickly as possible.

"Are you the oldest?"

"Middle child, actually. Right smack in there."

"Sweet. You're holding the knife wrong, by the way." He shows her how to hold it and she adjusts her grip.

All of a sudden, there's a loud commotion over at the fire station as the boy from Eight accidentally lights his pants on fire. The fire instructor is yelling at him to drop and roll, while the boy from Five and Ace scramble to get out of his way. The girl from Six calmly picks up the bucket of water that's next to her pit and dumps it on the boy as he rolls by.

He sits up, looking panicked. "Thanks."

The girl says something in return that Jacy can't hear at this distance before going back to work.

"Well that was intense," Texel says. "You think he's going to be okay?"

"Probably. The Capitol has really good burn medicine, it'll heal him up in a few hours."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Russell works in a factory that makes medicine for the Capitol, he's seen it."

"Which brother's that?"

She laughs. "Russell's not my brother, he's one of my best friends. What are your friends like?"

"Dixie's… Well, she can kind of spiteful at times. And she gets into fights a lot. But she really does care about people and if she knows you well enough, she can be a bit calmer. And Colton's really nice, but he can be a bit self-centered and arrogant. They both take a lot of getting used to."

"They sound nice."

"They are." Sadness didn't suit Texel as well as happiness did. It made him look small and scared, like a little kid that needed to be wrapped up in blankets and protected. The complete opposite of his large, muscular frame.

Jacy resists the urge to reach out and squeeze his hand. "Should we get back to training?" she asks, hoping to distract him.

He nods. "You still need to work on your grip."

The two of them practice with the daggers in silence for a few minutes. Jacy was beginning to get used to the feeling of the weapon in her hand, and Texel was getting good at hitting fast and hard. The dagger looked odd in his hand, a small weapon in a large grasp.

He seems to notice her gaze and gives her a small smile. "I think I should stick with swords. This feels too awkward for me. Better leave the daggers for you."

She gives him a nervous smile. "Yeah..."

"Oh, um, that's if you'd want to ally together of course."

Jacy feels a wide smile spread across her face. "Oh! Yes! Of course I would!"

Texel grins and Jacy thinks that angels probably sing whenever he smiles. "Sweet. Should we keep training together then?"

"Yeah! Yeah, definitely."

"Shall we go see if the fire station's still standing?"

Jacy laughs. "Lead the way!"

 **Hey guys!**

 **So... it's been a while! I'm super sorry that it took so long to update, school kicked my ass this semester. I was hoping to get some updates out during NaNoWriMo at least, but... clearly that didn't happen XD**

 **Anyways, this story is _definitely not stopping anytime soon._ I'm hoping that it won't take so long between now and the next update, but no matter what, I promise this isn't the end of Magnets! Thank you so much for sticking with me, the amount of support you guys have shown has been lovely! TwT **

**CQ: What did you think of the other tributes? Who do you think Maui should ally with and why?**

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	12. Training Day 2

_Calico Stieber, District Eight female_

Calico's woken up by a firm hand on her arm, shaking her quickly. She opens her eyes to see Ritter standing over her, frowning. She lashes out at him, aiming for his chin. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, you fucking pervert?!"

He blocks her punch easily, rolling his eyes as he gestures for her to follow him. She grabs the bathrobe from the back of the door and puts it on before following him out to the living room. It was still dark out but everyone was awake. Adine was sitting at the table, crying, while Bronx paces around, muttering swear words under his breath. Mark sits on the couch looking confused.

"What did Mark do?" Calico asks. This was probably all his fault. Of course he'd do something stupid to get her up before dawn. It must be another idiotic stunt to get her to be too sleep deprived to win the Games.

"I didn't do anything!" he protests. "I don't even know what's going on!"

"Oh sure, just like you didn't know what was happening at the chariots when you made us the laughing stock of the Capitol!"

"I was trying to stop the chariot before it ran over Lin! I _saved_ her _life._ "

"That's nothing to be proud of. You're going to be trying to kill her in a couple of days anyway. You might as well have let her die."

"Calico!" Adine snaps at her, tears streaming down their face. "How could you be so cruel? And just after-" They cover their mouth as they let out a small sob.

"After what? Isn't anybody going to tell us what the hell is going on?"

"One of the tributes is dead, that's what the bitch is going on," Bronx snaps. "Probably killed by some Capitol crazy, those evil fucks! They're always pulling some bullshit like this!"

"Bronx! How dare you say something like that about the people who have given you everything!" Adine says, glaring at him.

He laughs bitterly. "Everything? They _took_ everything from me! Liana, Nolan, Trek-" He's cut off by Ritter kicking him in the back. The younger victor turns to glare at him from the floor and looks like he's about to say something, but he seems to calm down slightly after Ritter signs something.

"Can we save the Capitol debate bullshit for later?" Calico asks at the same time that Mark quietly asks, "Who died?"

They all look over at him and he shrinks back a little bit. "What?"

Bronx sighs, running a hand through his hair. "The District Twelve boy. Henry or something." Ritter signs something and he says, "Henrik, right. Thanks."

"What happened?"

"We're not sure yet. They're not telling us much." Bronx scowls, probably thinking some choice words about Capitol assholes in his head.

 _Idiot,_ Calico thinks.

"What's going to happen to us?" Mark fiddles with his bracelet. "Are they sending us home?"

"Why would they do that?" Adine looks confused.

"They're bringing in a new District Twelve tribute because apparently they have to right to just kill as many of us as they like." Bronx is fuming so much by now that Calico's surprised he hasn't exploded.

"You have today off from training while the new tribute travels here," Adine adds, ignoring Bronx much to everyone's relief. "We wouldn't want to make things unfair for them."

"Because everything so far's been so shitting fair, right? Telling them they're safe for another year, and then _surprise!_ That kid we already ripped away from his family's dead and now you have to take his place in hell!"

"Excuse me, but the districts were the ones who-" Calico ignores Adine's protests, turning to Ritter.

"I'm going back to bed. Don't come into my room while I'm sleeping again unless it's something _actually_ important."

He barely gives her a nod before going to drag Bronx off of Adine. She heads back to her room, intent on sleeping away the rest of the day.

* * *

When Calico wakes up again, she's disappointed to find that it's only around lunchtime, which meant that she'd have to spend even more time with the nuts from her district. She gets dressed and takes as long as possible braiding up her hair before going out to the main room.

Adine's nowhere to be seen, probably off at some important meeting about how to make your skin look as unnatural as possible. The mentors have also disappeared, but Mark's still sitting in the living room, eating an apple and watching tv. He looks up when she comes in.

"Hey. Ritter and Bronx went down to District Three."

"Do I look like I care?" She's about to go into the kitchen to grab food but then remembers that the Avoxs were the only ones allowed inside as they did all of the cooking. All that was out here was the bowl of fruit Mark got his apple from. Calico lets out a growl of frustration.

"What the hell are we supposed to do for food?" They usually ate lunch downstairs and they were confined to their floor for the day.

Mark shrugs. "I dunno. Bronx said they'd come back when they found out."

"And the information's on the District Three floor?"

He shrugs again. "Maybe they needed to talk to the mentors? I think Bronx mentioned Gio?"

Calico rolls her eyes, sitting down on the couch with a huff. "Ugh, not that freak!"

"He's not a freak."

"Yeah? Well how do you explain all his freaky behaviour then, huh? You can't, can you?" It was a well known fact that Giovanni Picozzi, victor of the 36th Games, believed that all the tributes from his Games were still alive and messed with him. Lunatic.

"Yes I can. He was traumatized by the Games and his brain deals with it by believing that the tributes who died are still alive. It's a coping mechanism."

"What about all the weird counting and circling? Or the time he tried to cut off his own finger? That was in the Games, so don't go using that whole trauma bullshit!"

"He has OCD, everyone knows that. It doesn't make him a freak."

"Whatever." Calico crosses her arms, scowling. Arguing over the District Three loser didn't stop the growling in her stomach. Damn, was this what those factory rats felt every day? Now it was even more disgusting how nice Linum always was.

"What do you think the new tribute's going to be like?"

"What does it matter? He's only going to die like everyone else."

Mark looks surprised. "I wouldn't think you'd be pessimistic about the Games."

"I'm not. I know I'm going to win. It's everyone else that's going to die."

"But what about the Careers? How are you going to beat them?"

"Same way I'll beat everyone else. Stabbing them in their little bitch faces."

He stares at her in horror. "What?" she asks. "Don't you have a strategy?"

"Yes, but it's not quite so… violent."

"It's the Games. You have to be violent."

"Now I see why you got stuck with Ritter..." he mutters. "Sticking with the same strategy."

She smirks. "No, I'm doing things differently. He pretended not to be a threat. I'm not messing around."

Mark looks like he's torn between being impressed and terrified. "That's… wow."

"Impressive, I know."

"So you aren't allying with anyone then?"

"No. I don't need someone slowing me down."

"What if they weren't slowing you down though? What if they were useful?"

"Doubtful. What do you care anyways?"

"I was just trying to make conversation..." The room's quiet except for the tv for a minute. On screen the Games Announcer, Aeliana Bosch, is talking about Henrik's death and the subsequent reaping in Twelve. Apparently they just chose a name in the Capitol and then sent a hovercraft out to Twelve to retrieve him. No one knows who was chosen yet: it would be revealed on the news tonight after he arrived in the Capitol.

"Why are you so angry all the time?" Mark asks suddenly.

"Excuse me?" How dare he! How was her attitude his concern whatsoever?! In her opinion, Mark needed to keep his nose out of other people's business, but you didn't see her telling him that!

"I just… You're always so mad and you snap at everyone. You said that you're not worried for the Games, so I can't figure out why you're always so rude."

Calico scoffs. "Sure, because that's the only reason to be annoyed. Open your eyes douchebag. We're surrounded by lunatics."

"See there you go again. I know they're not the best, Ritter scares me too, but-"

"Whoa whoa whoa, back up there. I am not _scared_ of anyone here, least of all _him!_ "

"You should be." The voice isn't Mark's but Bronx's. He walks over from the elevator, whose doors Calico hadn't heard because she was so focused on Mark. He seems not to have noticed either, as he's looking over Bronx's shoulder, horrified, at where Ritter stands.

The victor doesn't seem that upset though, merely taking a seat in one of the armchairs and focusing on the television screen. Aeliana is still talking about Henrik's death and Calico wonders if they'd ever get bored of it. Didn't anything else happen in the last few hours?

"Did you find out what's happening with our lunch?" she asks Bronx.

He nods. "The Avoxs are making us something. It'll be ready soon."

She groans. "Ugggghhhh! There isn't even anything to do besides watch tv!"

"You could always ask your mentor for advice." Bronx says. "If he cares enough to help."

Ritter flips him off as Calico scowls and leans back on the couch. "I don't need his help. I can manage on my own."

"Sure you can." He takes a seat in Ritter's lap and promptly lands on the floor when the other victor pushes him off. Calico briefly wonders if they're dating but then decides she doesn't care.

"Are we getting an extra training day now?" Mark asks.

Bronx shakes his head. "They're pushing back the individual sessions by a day so that the new tribute still gets a day to train, but otherwise everything's still on the same day. We lost the spare day we had to strategize with you for the interviews, so we'll have to do that while your prep team's getting you ready."

"So you'll be in the room with us?" Calico wrinkles her nose at Ritter. "Gross."

He fishes around in his pockets for a piece of paper and starts writing slowly. Bronx whacks his arm. "Hey, sign. I'll translate for ya."

Ritter visibly relaxes and signs something quickly. "He says that if you're not comfortable with it he can just talk to you the night before," Bronx says.

"Why can't we just do it today and get it over with?"

"We could, but they're gonna want to know about your alliances and strategy and training score. The interviews are some grade A bullfuck though. Don't even have that much to say 'bout it, Adine's the one that's real freaky for them. Worried about you sitting wrong or some ass."

"Wait, you can sit wrong?" Mark asks, looking worried.

"Of course you can, you're doing it right now." Calico says. "You have to sit up, with a straight back and your legs together."

"Oh."

"See, you'll do fine!" Bronx laughs and claps her back and Calico has to resist the urge to break his wrist.

Adine shows up a few minutes later and the five of them go off to have lunch. Afterwards Calico goes out onto the balcony to do some people watching. It was more interesting than watching the news babble on about Henrik's death and their thoughts on who the new tribute might be. They seem to think that it might be the mayor's kid because apparently the District Four girl was the mayor's niece or some shit, so now everyone thinks it would be cool to see a whole bunch of mayor's kids in the arena.

She leans against the railing and watches the people wandering around on the streets below. There was a whole mass of them huddled near the entrance to the Training Center, probably trying to catch a glimpse of the new tribute as he's brought in by hovercraft. Most of them are brightly coloured, though a few are slightly more pastel and easier on the eyes.

She's been outside for about fifteen minutes before a hovercraft appears in the sky. The Capitolites start chattering excitedly below as it lands on the roof of the Training Center.

 _Guess that must be the new tribute,_ Calico thinks.

Mark pokes his head out the door. "They're about to tell us who the new tribute is. Adine wants us all to watch."

She sighs but follows him back inside. It was probably just going to be another scrawny seventeen year old that everyone was going to forget about after she won. What was the big deal?

Onscreen, Aeliana has brightened up considerably. "This is exciting news everyone! We can now tell you who the new District Twelve tribute is!"

There's a slight pause and Calico can hear cheering rise up from the streets. Really? She purposefully gave them all time to cheer. What a fucking asshole. Her father had always given pauses for cheering in his speeches, but that was because he was actually saying something important. Usually.

"His name is Shale Pyr!"

Aeliana's replaced by a photo and a few lines of text. The text is simple:

 _Shale Pyr_

 _District Twelve Male_

 _14 years old_

The photo's of an average looking boy with lightly tanned skin and shaggy black hair. The only thing that really stands out to her is his wide eyes, which make him look like someone just startled him. Obviously not very photogenic.

Aeliana keeps talking. "Well doesn't he look like a fun one? I'm sure he'll be full of surprises for us and he's the biggest one of them all!"

Adine claps, seemingly over their grief from the morning. Calico sighs and rolls her eyes. "Are we done here?"

Ritter gives her a small nod and she quickly disappears off to her room. _Some people are just the worst._

 _Kritis Areleous, District Six male_

Kritis makes his way down to the training hall with Risa on what was technically the second day of training but what he really thought of as the third. The previous day had been filled with confusion and worry and fear, all cumulating in the arrival of Shale Pyr from Twelve. None of them had met him yet, thought Kritis suspected that the poor boy was either going to be swamped in questions from the other tributes or completely ignored because he'd get less training than the rest of them and be less valuable as an ally.

The situation didn't exactly seem fair to him. They wanted 23 of them to die as a reminder not to rebel: what difference did the location and manner of their deaths make? Why go to all the effort of bringing in a new tribute just because you need twenty-four in the arena? Didn't Rik's death serve the same purpose that Shale's possible death would?

He didn't want to spend much time contemplating it. He had a feeling that he wouldn't like what he found.

When they entered the main training hall, the District Twelve tributes hadn't arrived yet. The Careers were standing in a huddle near the spears station, the other three all listening intently to whatever the District Two boy was saying. His district partner seemed ticked off, which didn't bode well for the rest of them. A few other tributes had drifted off to begin practicing early: the two Eleven tributes were sitting at the fire station, Rhema was practicing with throwing knives while her district partner attempted the climbing wall with Wildflower as Texel worked at the camouflage station.

Risa heads off towards the poisonous berries table but Kritis hangs around near the entrance. He had spent the previous training day with Ace, and the boy from Three was quickly becoming an almost-friend. He reminded him a little of Ridley: all jokes and no seriousness.

The tributes from Four and the girl from Seven show up shortly afterwards. The boy from Seven had left halfway through the first day of training and hadn't returned, leading Kritis to wonder if he was actually going to show up today. It was looking doubtful.

The Three tributes show up eventually and Ace immediately comes over to talk to Kritis.

"Hey, you fuck. How's it hanging?"

Kritis ignores the weird greeting. "Fine. How'd your mentors take the news?"

Ace shrugs. "Gio was talking to the District Eight mentors in his room all day. Howard spent most of the day talking with Jacy. He seemed pretty pissed off. Yours?"

"Aleksei was… alright? I guess? He seemed pretty upset in the morning, but he calmed down around lunchtime. Phoebe was angrier than usual, but I guess that's to be expected." Phoebe Gibbson was Risa's mentor, though she didn't seem to actually do much in the way of mentoring. Risa mostly just ignored her when they were on their floor and stayed in her room when they weren't at meals. She didn't seem to mind that much.

"Has the new kid come down yet?"

Kritis shakes his head. "Twelve's probably going to be the last ones down."

"Hm. Might as well get started on training then."

"Knives first?"

Ace nods and the two boys head over to the knife station. Rhema and the girl from Four, Gray, were already practicing, so the boys set up a little bit further down to avoid having to interact with the other tributes.

They had spent a bit of time on knives yesterday, and it seemed to be the only station that both boys had any sort of skill in. Ace had been decent enough at spears but Kritis had only managed to hit the target once, while Kritis had been fantastic at swords and Ace had almost chopped his own leg off. They had decided to start with knives in the morning before switching over to survival stations in the afternoon so that they would get the best of both worlds.

They train in silence for a few minutes before Ace's natural inability to keep his mouth shut takes over.

"I feel so badass doing this, you know? Just like: whoosh, whoosh. _Knife throwing._ "

Kritis laughs. "Yeah, I get what you mean. As long as you don't think too hard about it, it feels pretty cool."

"Yeah, exactly! Oh man, Charlotte would totally love this."

"Charlotte's your friend?"

"Yeah. We've known each other since we were little. She's always daring me to do stupid dangerous stuff." He grins. "I love it."

"Sounds like she and my friend Dyna would get along."

"Is Dyna also a daredevil?"

"Oh yeah. It drives Coop crazy. One time she tried jumping out of her apartment window onto a nearby tree. She hit the tree and then the ground. Broke three ribs and her arm."

"Shit! Why the hell would she do that?!"

He shrugs. "To see if she could."

"Well I hope she seeked appropriate tree-tment."

Kritis ignores him. "Coop nearly killed her for that. He's kind of like the mom friend? Or at least that's what Dyna says."

Ace laughs. "Like Blaise! They're our mom friend. But I can't really see them killing anyone."

"Yeah, Coop's probably plenty capable of murdering people. He offered to volunteer for me, actually."

"Aw, that's so sweet! You two must be pretty close then."

He nods. "Best friends since birth, pretty much."

"Cute." Ace is quiet for a minute before speaking up again. "Do you have any… partners?"

Kritis feels his ears heating up. What exactly was Ridley? He wasn't his partner – far from it, in fact – but it felt wrong to say that they meant nothing to each other. They were something. Not partners, but… Something. Something in between partners and nothing. "Not… exactly."

Ace perks up slightly. "Oh!"

"You?"

He shakes his head. "Completely single. All on my own. No partner. None at all. Well, romantic ones at least."

"Oh?"

"My friend Webster and I hook up sometimes. It's no big deal though, no strings attached." He coughs awkwardly, ears turning red.

"Is that why your district partner keeps calling you Hickey Boy?"

Ace's entire face goes bright red and he looks like he'd rather be anywhere but there. "Yes."

Kritis laughs. "It's nothing to be ashamed of!"

"It's embarrassing," he whines.

"What, that you're getting some? Never heard of someone being embarrassed about that before, only boastful. Then again the only people I know who get any are Dyna and Ridley."

Ace looks grateful for the opportunity to take the attention off of himself. "Is Ridley another one of your friends?"

"Kind of. I like him but Dyna and Coop think he's an asshole, so..." He shrugs. "It's complicated."

"Sounds like it."

"Not like it matters now though." He grabs a fresh belt of knives from the rack and straps it around his waist.

Ace deflates significantly. "Yeah, I guess not."

Kritis continues with the training for a couple of minutes, trying to ignore how sad the District Three boy seemed now. It would pass and he'd go back to his normal cheerful self before too long. Nothing to worry about. He hoped.

Speaking of things finally happening, it looked like their peaceful section of the throwing knives station was coming to an end as the District Five boy comes over. He grabs one of the knife belts, sizing them up as he does so. Kritis tries to keep a tough face on and not let himself be intimidated. Ever since the boy's reaping he had stood out in his mind as a serious threat to be avoided.

Ace apparently had different ideas, as he gives the boy a cheerful smile and wave. "Hi there! Festus, right?"

The boy glares at him. "Yeah. Why?"

"I'm Ace and this is Kritis. It's nice to meet you!"

"Hm. Yeah, sure." Festus slings the belt around his waist.

"Has your escort been giving you a hard time for what happened at the reaping?"

He shrugs. "She barely speaks to Talia and I. It's no big deal."

"Have your mentors given you any advice on what to do about it?"

Another shrug. "I got stuck with Kalina. She's supposed to be all smart because she's the first victor, but she's really just old and out of touch."

"So that's a no?"

"Not really. Or at least not for how to "come back from that."" He adds air quotes around the last part of his sentence.

"Well, I'm sure she'll come up with something before the interviews. Age is experience after all!" Ace adds a teasing tone to his voice but it doesn't seem to get through to the other boy as he only glares at him.

There's a loud clang of a bell and Kritis looks over to see the Head Trainer standing with a fourteen-year-old boy. He was about 5'7", with tan skin, shaggy black hair, and wide black eyes. This must be the new tribute.

"Could you all please come over here to meet the new tribute?" The Head Trainer asks.

Ace nudges Kritis and whispers, "Let's go. I have a feeling that his sour personality is in-festus."

Kritis groans and heads towards the gathering of tributes. Ace follows along after him, laughing.

The Head Trainer doesn't keep them for very long, just to go over the expectations for training again and to remind them all of what was happening with the replacement of the District Twelve male. Shale shifts awkwardly next to her, not looking at any of them even though all eyes were on him. Wildflower seemed particularly interested in him, no longer cowering behind her district partner like she usually did when all the tributes were gathered together. She hangs back once they're released and goes over to talk to him, a bright smile on her face.

Kritis turns to Ace. "Think he's worth introducing ourselves to?"

Ace shrugs. "Can't hurt. We've got a while before lunch."

They stick close by, running the ability course while they wait for Wildflower to finish up with the new tribute. Shale seems to appreciate Wildflower's interest and talks quite happily with her for a little while before the Ten girl runs off to continue with her climbing training. The Twelve boy looks slightly overwhelmed as soon as he's left alone, glancing around nervously at all the stations.

Kritis jogs over to him, leaving Ace to finish his course. "Hey! You're Shale, right?"

The younger boy grins at him, revealing a chipped front tooth. "Yeah! And you're Demokritis, right?"

"You can just call me Kritis."

"Sure thing. You're pretty popular out there, man. Lots of people think you can win."

He's taken back by this, having forgotten that of course, Shale would have been watching all of the footage of the Games so far. For the rest of them this was real, something they had been living for the past few days, but Shale had been disconnected from all of that, watching it from the outside world. It must be so strange for him to be immersed in the Games now.

Ace joins them, slightly out of breath from the ability course. "Of course they do, have you seen the muscles on this guy?" He winks at Shale. "Some _great_ abs."

Shale laughs and Kritis feels his ears heating up again. There was just something about Ace that made his skin heat up faster than normal. Something about those golden-brown eyes and how they glinted whenever he made one of those stupid, _stupid_ puns.

"It's more than that though!" Shale continues. "He just had this aura of confidence at the chariots! It was so cool!"

"Hey, what about me, huh? Do people think that I can win?"

"Oh, definitely! You were _very_ charming during the chariots. Everyone loved you."

"I guess tight jumpsuits are totally your style," Kritis teases.

Ace laughs loudly and Shale's eyes get even wider. The District Three boy's laugh was like a dying animal being tortured. Kritis loved it.

"I dunno, I think Jacy pulled that one off better. But the lights were totally my thing." He nudges Shale and the smaller boy almost topples over from the force. "Too bad you missed the chariots. I bet you totally would have stolen the show."

"Oh, you know it!" He holds up his hand for a high five and Ace slaps it happily.

"Hey, you should really get started on training. You only get the one day, after all," Kritis reminds Shale.

"Aw shit, you're right. Might as well get something out of this."

"We've been practicing at the knife station if you wanted to tag along," Ace offers.

The Twelve tribute hesitates for a minute before nodding. "Sure. Can't hurt to learn a bit of self-defence, huh?"

"We've mostly been using the throwing knives, but brushing up on hand to hand combat can't hurt." Kritis leads the other two over to a small matted area in the corner of the knife section.

Ace falls into step with him as they walk, Shale lagging behind as he look around at all the stations in wonder. "So what do you think of this kid?" he asks quietly.

"He seems pretty cool. I'd offer him an alliance, but I think he's a little young to be tagging along with us, don't you? I mean, he's great, but I'd feel too protective of him," Kritis whispers back. "We can't be sticking our necks out for a little kid the entire time, even if we do both really like him."

Ace nods. "My thoughts exactly."

The trainer hands them each a small wooden knife, a stand-in for the real ones that they'd be using in the arena. Kritis tries not to think about how he might have to use a knife on one of the others. Shale seemed like a sweet kid and he had come so close to being safe for another year. It wasn't fair that he had ended up here with the rest of them, stuck with even less time to prepare than the little time that they already had.

Even worse than thinking about using that knife against Shale was the thought of having to fight Ace. Kritis had known going in that having an ally would be hard, that it meant the possibility of growing attached to someone only to have to kill them. It had happened before, even to his own mentor, Aleksei, who had allied with the District 9 girl only to have to kill her once they had reached the final three. It had been the closest Nine had come to having a victor in over a decade and he had to take it away from them.

But Kritis had tried to ignore this fact. He had tried to convince himself that he would be different, he wouldn't get attached. But he had. He had gotten attached so, so quickly. He was attached from lunch on the first day when they had been talking about their siblings and Ace showed him the mouse drawing that his five-year-old brother had given him to take as a token.

" _He doesn't even understand what's happening," Ace had said, looking like he was on the verge of tears. "He thinks that I'm just going away for a little while."_

" _That's awful… Your parents will look after him though. Make sure he's kept busy and away from the TV, all that stuff."_

 _He shook his head. "Dad's high out of his mind half the time. Ever since Mom died, he's just been getting worse and worse. I don't think he'll be around for much longer."_

" _Oh… Ace, I'm so sorry."_

" _Don't be. It's not your fault. I just… Don't know what's going to happen to Pilot if I don't make it back."_

How was he supposed to not get attached? But even worse, how was he supposed to kill Ace if it came down to it?

When he had left District Six, he had been so certain that he would be able to do whatever it took to get home. Back to Hevea and Vulcan, Dyna and Coop, Ridley. His parents, whom he was reunited with at last. Nothing was more important than getting back to them.

But now he had this other boy to look out for. A boy whose back he had promised to have for as long as possible. What would happen if Ace didn't make it home? If his father died and his little brother was left all alone with no one to look out for him?

Could he really take Ace's life if it came down to it?

 **And we're back!**

 **Hiya folks and welcome to the FINAL STRETCH BEFORE THE GAMES! WE'RE ALMOST THERE! We've got a lot to cover in this A/N so let's get right down to it.**

 **You might have noticed the new addition to our little crew of tributes. Rik had to be taken out of the story, but thank you very much to the wonderful and fantastic Little Knight Mik who supplied me with Shale on (very) short notice! Mik is wonderful and lovely and you should all go shower them with praise and read their stories OwO**

 **Secondly! I have figured out the last few chapters that need to go up before we're into the Games and it's the chapters that I'm super freaking excited for! We've got the private sessions next chapter and then it's the INTERVIEWS. I have been waiting for the interview chapters since like, I _started_ this story, and they're almost here! The interview chapters are going to be pretty lengthy, so it might take a while to get them out, but they WILL be put out! I promise you, this story is not going anywhere. I'm hoping to get a chapter out every couple of weeks, but we'll see what happens. **

**Speaking of when I started this story... Magnets is now one year old! I realize that this is really far behind and most stories are finished/close to being done/at least in the Games by the one year mark, but AHHH IT'S STILL GOING! Thank you folks SO SO MUCH for all of your wonderful and lovely support over the last year. You've been lovely and kind and I appreciate you all so so much ;w;**

 **Okay, I think that's all from me, so on to the chapter question!**

 **CQ: What do you think of the addition of a new tribute? How do you think Shale will deal in the arena having less time to train than the other tributes?**

 **I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and thank you again for your continued support! You're all lovely people!**


	13. Private Sessions

_Magda Hofwegen, District Eleven female tribute_

Magda tried not to be annoyed at Merlin.

Her district partner was sweet, full of life and she liked spending time with him. She just couldn't help but feel that it was unfair that she was stuck with him.

Obviously it was more unfair that he was here in the Games, about to die at age twelve. She didn't want to ignore or undermine the unfairness of that situation at all. But it sucked that it was now impossible for her to get an ally that was actually going to be of some use to her in the arena.

She didn't want to leave Merlin on his own for the Games – the parental instincts that she must have gotten from her dad had kicked in at just the right time – but the younger tribute was too terrified of all the other tributes to even _try_ finding a third member of their alliance. He had spent all of training following her around but hid behind her as soon as another tribute approached them. Magda had given up on trying to interact with the other tributes after the first day when Merlin's fright had kept the girl from Three from talking to them. It was still better than the second day when Talia from Five had tried talking to them and Merlin had scaled the climbing wall in a matter of seconds to get away from her.

It was the most impressive thing he had done all week.

She tried not to be too harsh on him, as he was only a little boy, but Merlin really wasn't bringing much to the alliance. He was fast and could tie knots reasonably well, but beyond that he didn't have much of a skill set. He was scared of the weapons, he lost interest in their tasks quickly, and he was from the upper class of Eleven, so she suspected that he wouldn't be used to the hunger that would come in the arena. Even climbing – which she had initially thought that he would excel at following his Talia display – wasn't all that impressive when he had time to think about where he was putting his hands and feet.

On the plus side, she was feeling more confident in her own abilities following a couple of days of training. She was getting pretty good at building traps and setting fire so she should be able to keep the two of them alive for at least a couple of days in the arena. She had even tried throwing a few spears yesterday and had been pretty decent at it. She should be able to take down a tribute if she needed to. Which she hopefully wouldn't.

It was now the third and final day of training, if you could even call it a day. It was more like a half-day of training with private sessions in the afternoon. She and Merlin had decided to practice at the fire building station one last time before going into the arena. Or rather, Magda had decided to. Merlin kept getting bored and watching her instead, no longer interested in learning how to look after himself.

It was this sort of behaviour that had Magda dreading her alliance with him even more. He was a sweet kid and she didn't mind spending time with him – she wanted to stick with him, she really did – but she couldn't help but feel like it was an uneven exchange. She'd be spending all her time looking after him, risking her life to take care of him, and he'd just tag along after her. Not to mention that he might slow her down. He was fast but the Careers were faster.

It all just ended up making her feel stuck and frustrated. She didn't want to leave him: who knew what would happen to him if she did? But she also wished that she could find an ally that could actually help her out in the arena. Someone that she could feel like an equal to rather than a mother.

But it was too late now. Everyone else surely had an ally by now, and if not they probably didn't want one. And even if they did, who would ally with someone they talked to for the first time on the last day of training?

She was stuck.

The sparks from the flint she was striking finally hit her pile of kindling and a small flame appears. Merlin squeaks in surprise, backing away from her pit.

Magda gives him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, it's under control. Do you mind passing me one of those larger sticks from that pile?"

He nods and walks over to the pile of sticks that they had brought over from the supply station. Magda takes the opportunity to take a quick look around the hall at the other tributes while the fire's still small and doesn't have enough fuel to require a watchful eye.

The fire building station has one other alliance at it. Jacy and Texel had arrived a few minutes ago, setting up at the other side of the station and mostly ignoring the District Eleven tributes. It seemed like they were working on setting fires using only two sticks, as neither of them had brought any flint. Jacy was working fast, already carving down a piece of wood to make her drill. Texel worked a little bit slower but he already had good progress on his fireboard.

Magda's surprised when she looks over at the berries station and sees Jasper there, working away at one of the screens. It's the first time that the One boy had strayed away from the weapons stations all week. Both screens on either side of him were empty, but Lin and Maui work together at one of the screens a little further down. The two of them had been spending a lot of time together in the last couple of days and Magda wonders whether they're planning on allying together.

Over at the knots station, Kritis and Ace joke around together while working on a large net. The holes are small enough that a small animal couldn't get through, but the overall size of the net was too big to be meant for hunting animals. The thought of getting caught in a net like that and being unable to escape while two other tributes were nearby makes Magda hope that she's nowhere near the pair of boys in the arena.

Rhema was also at the knot tying station, though her trap was significantly smaller, presumably because there was only one of her and she would have to be done before they were sent off to lunch in a little while. The girl from Nine had been spending a lot of her time at the ropes station the past week. Magda remembered working next to her and how quiet and focused on her work she had been. She'd have to watch her step in the arena with so many tributes around who had the knowledge to make traps. But maybe she'd luck out and there would be no rope in the arena.

The next station over was the camouflage one, filled with mud and berries to smear across their skin. There were even a few small canisters of paint that they could use, although Magda had kept away from those, preferring to use only what they were likely to get in the arena. Grey seemed to follow that line of thinking as she mixes mud and some dark green berries together before smearing the mixture on her arm. Risa seemed to be doing a combination of the two, painting some of her arm and then adding some mud and berries to make it look more uneven and natural.

The last survival station that was occupied was the fish hooks station, which surprisingly had two tributes at it. Talia seemed about ready to quit, cussing as she almost cuts her finger off with her knife. Wildflower seemed much more adept at the task, whittling down the ends of her hook. She keeps glancing nervously at the older tribute, causing Magda to worry that she'll risk cutting herself soon if she doesn't start paying more attention to where her knife is.

The weapons stations weren't as busy as the survival stations, though that doesn't surprise Magda. Since it was the last chance they would get to do any training, most tributes probably wanted to spend it brushing up on the survival techniques that they wouldn't get to practice once they were in the arena. So long as you got your hands on a weapon you could practice fighting in the arena. You couldn't double check which berries weren't poisonous once you got into the arena.

Emerald was the star of the throwing knives station, just as she had been the entire week. The District One girl was a master of knives, absolutely terrifying. Almost every throw hit the bullseye and Magda could only hope that she wouldn't notice her or her ally on their way out of the bloodbath, otherwise they were both done for.

Next to her was Mark, who seemed as threatening as a kitten when compared to Emerald. He wasn't bad enough with a knife for it to be comforting – the thought of any of these people with a weapon was terrifying to Magda – but he was far from Emerald's skill level.

Cassie from Twelve seemed to fall somewhere in between. She certainly wasn't as good as Emerald, but she was also hitting the targets more than Mark was. Magda had seen her talking to Cadell on the first day and watching her throw knives now gave Magda a knot in the bottom of her stomach.

Beside the throwing knives station was the small dagger station: a rack of daggers and a few dummies to stab. Calico was putting the dummies to good use, one of the smaller daggers in her hand. She looked like an assassin with it, slipping around the station and making use of all four dummies in her training.

Ryda was also alone at her station, practicing with the bow and arrows. She was hitting on or near the bullseye with every shot, causing Magda to have to resist the urge to run upstairs and hide under the covers and refuse to come out ever again. The proficiency of the Careers on projectile weapons this year was terrifying, as it meant that running away would do her no good.

The sword station was the busiest of all the weapons station. Cadell was continuing his non-stop assault on the dummies, using one of the heavier swords available. On the other end of the station was Darius, Festus and Shale, working side-by-side and occasionally commenting on something to each other. Darius and Festus had spent most of the week together and Shale had joined them yesterday afternoon, so it looked like yet another alliance was forming.

The only tribute who wasn't training was Amias, who stood off to the side watching the rest of them and looking annoyed.

Magda turns back to her small fire, the flame still flickering in her pit. Merlin seemed to be struggling with the firewood, as he had grabbed too many pieces at once and was unable to walk more than a few steps before dropping one. She goes to help him out, taking a few of the pieces before heading back to their pit.

"You could have made two trips," she says. "We have to add the wood slowly so that the fire doesn't go out."

"But I didn't want to have to walk over there again," Merlin replies. "I was managing."

Magda lets out a small sigh, adding a piece of wood to their fire. "I appreciate the help. How's your fire coming along?"

"I got the kindling down," he says, sounding pleased with himself.

"That's wonderful." Magda gives him an encouraging smile, trying not to get frustrated. It was the third day of training. He should be able to do more than the kindling by this point. "Have you started adding the flint shavings yet?"

"That step's too hard, can't you do it?" he complains, before adding, "I got the kindling put down though."

This was another problem with allying with Merlin. While he was a cute kid, he had an annoying habit of halfway completing a task and then expecting to be praised as though he finished the entire task. It made it hard to convince him to keep working on said task.

"Merlin, you need to know how to make a flint fire by yourself. I can't always make them for you." What if they were separated? What if she died in the bloodbath? What if she died protecting him?

"Why not? You're my ally. Aren't we supposed to help each other?"

Magda sighs. "Watch the fire please."

She gets up and goes over to his pit to scrap the flint shavings onto his kindling nest. Once she gets a flame going she heads back to her own pit. "I got the fire started for you. Can you try to keep it going?"

Merlin sighs and returns to his own pit, shoving one of the larger pieces of firewood in. The fire goes out shortly afterwards and he comes back over.

"My fire went out again."

She glances over at his pit and resists the urge to sigh. "The piece that you added was too big."

He pouts. "Can't you just show me what to do?"

She can't help but smile slightly at the sight of his pouty face. He really was just an adorable little kid. "Alright, alright. Here, you've got to add the _smallest_ piece of wood you've got first and add the rest _slowly_. That way your fire will last longer without using up all of your wood at once or being put out too quickly."

 _Cicero Genovese, Head Gamemaker_

Cicero takes his place in the Gamemaker booth, Makvala and Chevalier sitting down next to him. Chevalier was absolutely bubbling, rambling on and on about how excited he was. Makvala was answering his questions while Cicero tried to block him out. At least he didn't have the baby with him today.

They had a few more minutes before the first tribute comes in, and the training staff was busy rearranging the room for the private sessions. They took away most of the extra targets and moved all of the equipment closer to the center of the room so that the sessions could be carried out more efficiently.

Makvala taps his arm. "Hey, you ready for this?"

"Hm? Yes, of course I am."

"I am _so_ ready!" Chevalier says. He's even bouncing up and down slightly in his seat. Ugh.

"You have to be tough on these tributes," Cicero reminds him. "Don't just give them all sixes. You have a responsibility to the sponsors to give them an accurate depiction of the tributes' abilities."

"Ay ay, captain!" Chevalier gives him a mock salute and he rolls his eyes. The damn bastard's always so gosh darn cheerful.

"Are you ready for the first tribute, sir?" One of the trainers calls up to Cicero.

"Send him in!"

The trainer steps out of the room for a minute, returning with the boy from One. He walks towards the Gamemakers, stopping shortly in front of their booth.

"Jasper Enderyne, District One."

Cicero gives him a small nod and the boy turns and walks towards the bow and arrows. He picks up the correct bow size before notching an arrow and shooting at the target. The first shot is dead-on, hitting right in the center of the target over the dummy's heart. His second shot hits the dummy's eye but his third shot is slightly off, hitting the dummy's upper right arm instead of its shoulder.

The boy continues with his shooting practice for the rest of his session, stopping only when the buzzer goes off and he has to return the bow to its spot on the rack. He gives the Gamemakers a quick bow before casually strolling out of the hall.

As the trainers begin gathering up the arrows and switching out the dummy, Cicero turns to the two Gamemakers sitting next to him for their opinions.

Chevalier's eyes are practically glowing. "Wow, he was amazing! Did you see how good he was with that bow? He hit the target every time! I'm gonna give him a twelve."

Cicero groans as Chevalier begins scribbling some notes down on his clipboard. "Chevalier, I told you! You have to be tough on them!"

"But he did so well!"

Makvala laughs and pats him on the back. "You can't just give them all twelves! That's not a fair judgement!"

"I won't give _all_ of them twelves! ...Some of them will get eights."

Cicero groans again. "Chevalier!"

The trainers open the door to the hall and let in the next tribute. She walks over to the square in front of the Gamemakers, her dark braids bouncing along behind her as she walks.

"Emerald Layne, District One."

She walks over to the rack of throwing knives and picks up one of the belts, strapping it around her waist. She then walks over to the line where the tributes were supposed to throw from and begins emptying her belt. The first knife hits the dummy in the center of its forehead, the second in its stomach, and the third in its chest. Most of her other throws hit similarly vital regions, though not all of them hit directly in the bullseye of the target.

After she finishes throwing all of the knives in her belt, she heads over to the climbing wall and begins to slowly make her way up. She makes good progress, looking like she was going to slip only once, so Cicero marks her accordingly. Once she climbs back she mimics her district partner's bow before heading back outside.

"How was that?" Makvala asks.

"Pretty good. She's got weapons skill but wasn't boring by showing _only_ weapons skills," he replies.

"She was amazing!" Chevalier's clutching his hands in fists, eyes wide. "Are they all going to be this good?! Does this make this year the most exciting Games yet?!"

Cicero sighs. It was times like this that he had no trouble remembering that it was only Chevalier's first year as a Gamemaker yet he had to keep reminding himself of this fact. He had to be patient with him. He had to be… patient.

The doors open again and this time it's the hulking boy from District Two. He marches up to the square outlined on the floor and proudly announces his name and district.

"Cadell Baines, District Two!"

He heads over to the swords rack immediately, not even waiting for Cicero's nod like the other two had, and immediately gets to work hacking the dummies to bits. He takes each dummy down a different way: the first he chops off all its limbs, the second he decapitates, and the third he finishes with a simple stab through the chest. He keeps up the massacre for the rest of the ten minutes, placing the sword back on the rack when the buzzer goes off before marching out of the room, leaving a pile of destruction in his wake.

Chevalier is squealing quietly to himself, so Cicero chooses not to ask his opinion. He turns instead to Makvala. "Thoughts?"

She smirks at him. "Pretty damn impressive. He's definitely holding up our initial theories."

"Mm. We'll see how long that lasts."

"So damn cynical..." she mutters under her breath as the fourth tribute walks in.

The girl from Two shares her district partner's strict march over to the square, making eye contact with the Gamemakers the entire time. Chevalier shrinks away from her slightly while Makvala leans forwards, interested.

"Ryda del Aquiles, District Two!"

She strides over to the spear rack, grabbing one at random and getting into position on the line. Her form is textbook perfect, like she had spent her whole life practicing this one skill to be absolutely perfect. She takes aim and throws the spear at the target with so much force that it sticks out the other side slightly. Chevalier shrinks back even more in his seat and Cicero can't help but smirk. She had real potential. It was good to see a tribute who could make Chevalier nervous. That's what victors should do.

The District Two girl spends the rest of her private session on the spears, each throw just as impressive as the first. When she finishes she gives the Gamemakers a polite bow before leaving.

The next tribute to enter is the first to actually look intimidated by the Gamemakers. The District Three boy slowly approaches the square on the floor, nervously clearing his throat once he gets there.

"Alastor Holiday, District Three."

Cicero gives him a quick nod and he walks over to the throwing knives, carefully strapping a belt of them around his waist. He gets into position and throws the first knife, lodging it in the dummy's clavicle. There's no target there, so Cicero has no idea why he would try throwing there, but it's a good hit, worthy of at least a few points. His second throw hits the dummy's upper left arm, while the third strikes it directly in its groin causing a small squeak of pain from Chevalier. Cicero glances over at him.

"That looked like it really hurt!" he whispers. Cicero just rolls his eyes in response.

Alastor spends the rest of his session working on knot tying and camouflage, both of which he's pretty decent at. Cicero gives him a decent score in return.

The next tribute comes in after he leaves, shyly walking over to the Gamemakers. She tries to hold eye contact while she speaks but ends up glancing away by the end.

"Jacy Dahl, District Three."

She heads immediately over to the fire building station, not even glancing at the weapons. She gets to work quickly and has a small fire going five minutes later. Her speed would come in handy in the arena when she'd need to get warm quickly. There were some cold nights coming for her.

After her fire was built, Jacy gets to work on building a shelter. She's able to get the most basic components up by the time the buzzer sounds, which was promising for her chances of survival in the arena. You never know when you're going to have to find shelter and get warm in less than ten minutes.

The next session is with the weak looking boy from District Four. Cicero hadn't been expecting too much from him ever since the reapings, though the boy seemed to have found some confidence since then and strolls up to the square.

"Darius Greene, District Four!"

He heads over to the small table with wires and conductors and grabs a small spool of electrical wire before heading over to the fire making station. He begins wrapping the wire around three of the trees that were at the station (for added realism, obviously) until he had a triangular shape. He then walks over to the dummies that were lying nearby for trap demonstrations and throws one into the center of the triangle.

Nothing happens.

The boy looks upset and begins checking his wire, glancing nervously up at the booth of Gamemakers. Makvala leans over to Cicero.

"Do you think he knows that he's supposed to have some source of electricity?" she whispers.

He smirks. "Doesn't look like it."

Chevalier gives them both sad doe eyes. "Aw, come on guys! He's trying!"

"Chevalier I swear, if you give this kid a high score-"

"I'm going to give him a nine for effort!"

Cicero groans and buries his head in his arms while Makvala laughs and writes down her own judgements. The boy leaves the training hall after the buzzer sounds, his trap still not electrified.

Needless to say, Cicero was beyond happy when the next tribute entered, walking confidently towards them. She had been a mystery since her reaping and he knew that the sponsors were eager to hear about her.

"Grace Pyrmont, District Four."

She walks over to one of the trainers and talks quietly with them for a minute before going over to the small square of mats provided for hand-to-hand combat practice. The two of them spar for a few minutes before Grace is able to knock the trainer over and pin them to the mat. She then walks over to the throwing knives station and makes her way through a belt. The first knife hits the dummy in the throat, the second in the stomach, and the third just slightly off from the center of the heart target. All impressive throws.

The buzzer rings shortly afterwards and as the girl leaves, a pit slowly forms in Cicero's stomach. Makvala glances over at him. "It's time?"

He nods. "It's time."

The doors open and in enters the boy from Five, his head held high. Cicero had no idea what would cause him to be so proud. It wasn't like he had any chance at winning.

"Festus Allen, District Five."

He gives the boy a nod, trying to put as much hate into his stare as possible. Festus seems oblivious to it, walking over to the sword station and grabbing a light rapier. He sets about cutting up dummies, occasionally overswinging, clearly not used to the weapon yet. He doesn't do much else during his session, but he seemed to be at least decent with the weapon. He could possibly win in a fight with a weaker tribute.

Cicero is thrilled when the District Five boy is replaced by his district partner, who was at least marginally less difficult. She seemed to hold herself in the same proud way as Festus, which causes Cicero to wonder if there was something in the water in Five.

"Nathalia Zimmer, District Five."

She starts off at the throwing knives, the weapons leaving her hands with ease. The first knife hits the dummy in the shoulder, the second in its thigh, and the third slightly off from its heart. Nathalia continues to throw the knives, not looking nearly as troubled by it as most outer district tributes were. Cicero makes a note of this on his form.

About halfway through her session, she puts the knives away and heads over to the hand-to-hand combat area. The trainer gets up to help her out but doesn't have long before they're back on the mats again, Nathalia's knee pressing down on their back. She lets the trainer back up and they go another round or two before the buzzer rings again and the District Five girl marches out of the hall, her head held high.

The boy from Six has the next private session, glancing around the room nervously as he walks in. Cicero was curious as to where this kid was going to end up. He seemed physically strong but also set on edge, permanently tense.

"Demokritis Areleous, District Six."

Like many of the other tributes, Demokritis starts at the throwing knives station. He seems to relax slightly once he's got a belt of knives slung around his waist. His aim with the knives is impressive for a tribute who's only been training with them for a few days, most of them hitting the center or near center of the targets on the dummy. Chest, head, shoulders, even the knees. His throws were quick and brutal, and by the time he was finished every target had at least one knife in it.

Impressive.

The Six boy then heads over to the fire station to demonstrate some survival skills. A well rounded tribute. His fire skills weren't nearly as impressive as his knife skills, but he's still decent enough. He spends the rest of his session there before leaving with a small nod at the Gamemakers.

Makvala nudges Cicero. "He was pretty badass, huh?"

"Hm. He should make for an interesting show."

Chevalier's eyes are practically glowing. "He was so cool!" he squeals.

Cicero rolls his eyes.

The small girl from District Six is the next tribute to come in, glowering up at the Gamemakers like they had just spat in her food. They were responsible for whether she lived or died, so Cicero supposes that it was a fair expression to make.

"Risa Chandler, District Six."

She walks over to the dagger station and selects a small dagger. However instead of using it against a dummy, she heads over to the berry station and grabs one of the models that had been provided. She carefully slices the berry in half and demonstrates how to remove the poisonous parts of the plant. She does this with a few of the different models before smearing some of the poison on her dagger and hurling it across the room at a dummy. It hits the dummy loosely in its lower leg, an unimpressive throw if it had been only a dagger thrown. But since the dagger was coated in poison beforehand, it was a fatal throw.

"She's a smart one..." Makvala murmurs.

"More dangerous than she looks," he whispers back.

"So… cool..." Chevalier makes a happy squeaking noise and Cicero has to restrain himself from throwing his coworker over the railing.

The tribute after Risa was another one that Cicero had been dreading: the District Seven boy. Also known as the boy who made such a mess at the reapings. Also known as the third reason he was taking so many painkillers for his headaches lately. The young boy comes up to the square and wrinkles his nose at the Gamemakers.

"Amias Fairchild, District Seven."

Cicero has to resist the urge to bury his head in his arms and cry when the boy makes his way over to the wires. After Darius' disastrous attempt on them earlier, he doesn't think that he can take another ten minutes of watching a tribute fail and be pathetic. Amias at least seems to have a little bit more of a clue as to what he was supposed to be doing, as he at least manages to get all of the components he needed set up. He isn't able to properly electrocute anything in the time he was given, but he at least had the knowledge. It was a start.

The District Seven girl enters as soon as her district partner leaves, her head held high and a bright smile on her face. She walks up to the square and confidently announces her name.

"Aelin Gedeckt, District Seven!"

She walks over to the dagger station and spends a brief period of time selecting one that she liked. Then she heads over to a dummy and begins cutting it up, aimlessly singing what sounded like a folk song. Cicero just sits there staring at her for the entire ten minutes and almost hits Chevalier when he starts to hum along. What the heck was up with the tributes this year?!

Aelin eventually leaves, still singing quietly to herself, and Cicero's relieved to notice that the next tribute in line was the more normal seeming ones. The boy enters the room and takes his place at the square, bouncing lightly on his feet.

"Mark Zephyr, District Eight!"

He heads over to the berries station as soon as he gets the nod from Cicero. He spends a few minutes there, checking off whether or not the plant was poisonous. He does pretty well on it, with only a few errors. He then goes over to the fire station and makes a small fire, finishing with time to spare. He uses his remaining minute with the throwing knives and manages to get in a few decent throws. None of them hit any vital areas, but they all at least hit the dummy. Decent enough.

Mark seems surprised and slightly disappointed when the buzzer goes off, but he leaves quickly, making room for his district partner's session. The girl enters with her head held high and a sneer on her face. Another prideful tribute. Great. Exactly what Cicero needed.

"Calico Stieber, District Eight."

She spends the first half of her session at the knife station, spending part of it on daggers and part on throwing knives. She seemed more comfortable with the daggers, particularly the smaller ones, though her aim wasn't too shabby. She could probably hold her own in a fight for at least a few minutes. Long enough to keep the President satisfied, anyways.

The second half of her session is spent at the berry station, her skills on par with her district partner. The two of them weren't anything special, but they were at least slightly more impressive than the crap District Eight usually churned out.

The doors open again and the trembling little boy from Nine comes in. He approaches the Gamemakers but keeps his eyes on the floor, and when he speaks his voice is quiet.

"Maui Keoni, District Nine."

He heads over to the rope station once he's been given a nod, but his hands are shaking too much to be able to make really good knots. He eventually gives up and heads over to the berries station, where he spends the rest of his private session running through the list of plants and checking off which ones were dangerous. He's pretty good at that at least, so he manages not to completely flop his session.

Maui practically runs out of the room when his buzzer goes off, and Makvala laughs quietly.

"He's like a scared squirrel!"

"The young ones never last long," he replies.

"Aw, I feel bad for him," Chevalier says. "Did you see how badly his hands were shaking? He was really trying!"

"Are you going to give him a high score for that as well?" Makvala asks.

"Yeah, I think I will!"

"You had to ask..." Cicero mutters to her. He gets only a grin and a wink in reply.

The next tribute enters and makes her way towards the Gamemakers, taking a deep breath before speaking.

"Rhema Hilkes, District Nine."

As soon as Cicero nods, the girl scurries off towards the rope section, getting to work immediately on a large net. She strings it up once she's done before grabbing one of the dummies from the dagger station and throwing it into the center of the net. The trap springs instantly, pulling the dummy up into the air. Rhema grabs one of the daggers and stabs it into the dummy's side. A good kill. Not instantaneous, but it gets the job done.

Her trap did take most of her session to make though, so the buzzer rings shortly after she throws the dummy in, not giving her enough time to show off any of her other skills. The next tribute enters as soon as the trap is cleared away: it's the big hulking boy from Ten. He doesn't seem to be nervous at all when he comes in. This ought to be interesting.

"Texel Nimari, District Ten."

His session ends up being a bit of a letdown. The first part is interesting: he throws around some weights, shows off his strength. But the second and third parts were just… boring. Typical outer-district skill set of berries and fires. They didn't even get to see whether his fire would work, as he ran out of time before he could light it. His plant testing was decent enough though.

The next tribute in is his tiny little district partner. She had an odd name, what was it…?

"Wildflower Dandelions, District Ten!"

Right.

She walks over to the daggers and picks one up before heading over to the circle of dummies. She stabs one of them in the abdomen and then scurries out of the room, leaving the knife in. The whole thing takes about thirty seconds.

Chevalier looks over at the other two Gamemakers, confused. "Is that normal?"

Cicero rubs his temples with his fingers and wishes desperately for a painkiller. "Not even remotely."

"I've never seen a tribute leave that quickly before," Makvala adds. "Most of them use up as much of the ten minutes as they can."

Cicero gestures for the trainers to send in the next tribute. The boy from Eleven comes in, looking confused. He walks up to the Gamemakers and announces himself.

"Merlin Willford, District Eleven."

He goes over to the ropes and begins tying knots. He spends the session constructing a large net built out of a series of reasonably good knots. He doesn't end up testing it, so they have no clue whether or not it would function in the arena, but he at least had the skill set down well enough. He leaves as soon as the buzzer sounds without having moved to another station once.

The next tribute comes in, walking slowly over to the spot on the floor. She looks nervous, but not scared.

"Magda Hofwegen, District Eleven."

She starts off by making a small trap, capable of catching a large animal or small tribute. It's not as impressive as the one the girl from Nine made, but it goes off when she put a dummy in it. Functional. The small size of the trap also meant that she had a bit of time left after she sets it, so she proceeds to the spear station. Her first throw hits the dummy in the shoulder, her second hits its stomach, and her third misses all together. The buzzer rings just as she's reaching for a fourth spear and she leaves quietly, looking disappointed that she was ending on a low note.

The next tribute was the one that everybody was interested in: the new boy. His late arrival and young age meant that he probably wouldn't be as impressive as the rest of the tributes… tried to be… but many sponsors had already expressed an interest in him, even if for no other reason than to be able to say that they had.

"Shale Pyr, District Twelve."

Cicero gives him a nod and the boy takes a deep breath before launching into a long speech.

"Are rocks dangerous for children? Let's look at the facts. Two ten year olds are out rock hunting and one of them gets his finger stuck. Is this the rock's fault? Should you be worried about your own children's fingers? Are rocks hazardous for young people's health?"

This goes on for the next ten minutes.

It's a relief when the boy finally leaves and his district partner comes in, a confident smile on her face.

 _Please no more rocks,_ Cicero thinks.

"Cassandra Rainthorn, District Twelve."

She blesses them with a strong ending and no more talk of rocks. Her entire session is spent at the throwing knives station, where she aims to wound or maim rather than to kill. Some of her throws are fairly brutal: a knife to the knee cap isn't pretty. But most of them hit the dummy's shoulders, arms, and thighs. Good throws, but nothing that would kill a tribute instantly. She'd lose points for that.

Makvala turns to him once she leaves.

"Time to discuss scores?" she asks.

Cicero groans and gets up. "Time to discuss scores."

 _General POV, evening of the final training day_

Caesar Flickerman settles into his broadcast chair, the list of scores in front of him. He had already read over them earlier that day so that there would be no on air surprises. He had been surprised by a few of the scores, but most seemed no different from any other year. The sponsors would be pleased with what they saw.

Around the country, people were settling in front of their TVs to watch him announce the scores. The most excited viewers were the sponsors, getting ready to send off their money at a moment's notice to support their favourite tributes. The most nervous viewers were said tributes, curled up on couches waiting to hear their fate become a little more decisive.

Caesar goes through his introduction, welcoming the country and talking about what an exciting week it had been in the Capitol, before finally getting down to business.

"Our first score: from District One we have Jasper Enderyne with a score of… 9.

Also from District One we have Emerald Layne, with a score of… 9.

From District Two we have Cadell Baines, with a score of… 10.

Ryda del Aquiles, District Two, with a score of… 10.

Alastor Holiday, District Three, with a score of… 6.

Jacy Dahl, District Three, with a score of… 5.

Darius Greene, District Four, with a score of… 1.

Grace Pyrmont, District Four, with a score of… 8.

Festus Allen, District Five, with a score of… 6.

Nathalia Zimmer, District Five, with a score of… 7.

Demokritis Areleous, District Six, with a score of… 7.

Risa Chandler, District Six, with a score of… 5.

Amias Fairchild, District Seven, with a score of… 4.

Aelin Gedeckt, District Seven, with a score of… 7.

Mark Zephyr, District Eight, with a score of… 5.

Calico Stieber, District Eight, with a score of… 6.

Maui Keoni, District Nine, with a score of… 4.

Rhema Hilkes, District Nine, with a score of… 5.

Texel Nimari, District Ten, with a score of… 5.

Wildflower Dandelions, District Ten, with a score of… 2.

Merlin Willford, District Eleven, with a score of… 3.

Magda Hofwegen, District Eleven, with a score of… 5.

Shale Pyr, District Twelve, with a score of… 2.

And finally from District Twelve we have Cassandra Rainthorn with a score of… 7."

 **Hiya folks!**

 **We are now so so close to the Games! Just two more chapters left to go! I apologize for this chapter being pretty description heavy, but the next two chapters will be dialogue heavy with only a light bit of description, so hopefully that makes up for it? The next two chapters will be the interviews, and I'm hoping to be able to make them all ~3 minutes in actuality, so it might get pretty lengthy. I'm hoping to have the first chapter up soon (if I'm sticking to my schedule for getting the bloodbath done by the end of April then it should be going up next week) but since it is a longer one it might take a little while. Thank you so much for sticking with me on this. I appreciate all the kind words I've been getting from everyone, you're all _so_ kind. **

**I hope you all liked what score your tribute got! I tried to be fair with them and I took your suggested scores into account for them. As we get closer to the Games and the first deaths, I want to remind everyone that the preferred deaths and your answers to the bloodbath question are just suggestions. I'm going to take them into account but I won't be able to give everyone what they wanted on the forms. I'll do my best though!**

 **CQ: What did you think of the private sessions/training scores? Were there any that you were surprised by? Who do you think is likely to be a bloodbath?**

 **Note: I keep forgetting to mention this, but look at the gorgeous new cover image! It's a drawing of Calico screaming that my friend made, so I feel like it's an appropriate descriptor of this story XD**

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


End file.
